


These Little Lies

by missingnolovefic



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Getting Together, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyfidelity, Pre-Threesome, Secret Identity, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingnolovefic/pseuds/missingnolovefic
Summary: A model by day, Meg has a secret second life by night as the assassinDollface. Her civilian boyfriend has no idea, but when the Vagabond shows up, how long can she hide who she truly is?Meanwhile, Gavin has secrets of his own...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story since Jan 2017. I'm so happy to finally share it with you all!
> 
> Shout-out to the beta and cheersquad: plaindealingvillainess, skydiver-tomyo, kaysno and lunarlover12 <3
> 
> The title was put up to a vote. To find out how to participate in such things, and other stuff regarding my stories, check out [my tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/)!

Meg slammed the door behind her with a muffled yell, kicking off her shoes haphazardly and dropping the keys on the side table. Her spring jacket was flung against the wall and left on the floor where it fell, as Meg stomped off into the single bedroom. Gavin looked up curiously from his laptop, standing up and following her through the bedroom into the bath.

“You alright, girl?” he asked hesitantly as she struggled out of her top. She whirled on him and glared, fingers fumbling with the hooks on her bra.

“ _Fine_ ,” she snarled, huffing and pulling uselessly at the backstrap. She took a deep breath. “Help me out of this damn thing?”

Gavin silently stepped up behind her, and she let her hands drop to her belt, pulling it out of the loops of her skinny jeans. Gavin deftly opened her bra, and Meg let it drop to the floor with a relieved sigh. Shimmying out of her pants, she gave her boyfriend a strained smile.

“Thanks.”

“Bad day?” Gavin hazarded, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. She turned around and pecked his lips before leaning into the shower and turning the hot water on.

“You have no idea,” Meg groaned, walking over to the sink and taking her earrings off. They landed with a soft clank in the jewelry bowl set up for this exact purpose. Arms wrapped around her from behind, and Gavin brushed a kiss to her temple. Sighing, she leaned into him, covering his hands with her own.

“I had the L’oreal shoot today, and apparently they didn’t have the budget to get a _proper_ photographer, so I was stuck in nude undies and a towel with Mr. Sleezy McSlimeball for _hours_.” Meg shuddered, and Gavin’s arms tightened around her waist. “He kept insisting I should drop the flimsy bra for _authenticity_. Said he’d seen my portfolio and knew I’d done it before.”

Meg shivered, blaming it on the cool breeze coming in from the bedroom. Gavin’s cheek was smushed against her hair and she met his eyes in the mirror. He was scowling.

“What a mingey smegpot. Hope he chokes on a chicken bone,” Gavin declared, and Meg barked out a laugh, disentangling herself from his embrace to slip into the shower, steam rising to fog the mirror.

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘strangled by the bra he was so obsessed with’ but either works,” Meg joked, welcoming the hot water carefully. “I’ll settle for washing the slimy feel off, for now. Close the door?”

As she busied herself with wetting her hair, Meg considered if she should tell Gavin the rest of the story. The door clicked shut, and Meg opened her eyes, staring at the vague outline behind the shower glass confirming Gavin remained with her. She watched him pace the small space as she lathered up her hair.

“There must be a way we can get back at him. Make sure he leaves you and the other models alone,” he muttered, and Meg closed her eyes as she rinsed her hair. “This is bloody Los Santos, I’m sure he’s connected to some crime or another. Maybe-”

“Gav,” Meg interrupted him, rubbing conditioner into the purple strands. Yeah, she was definitely not telling him about the lingering touches as he kept re-positioning her. It’s not like the guy was going to live for much longer. She didn’t want to get Gavin involved in the criminal life - bad enough that they lived in Los Santos. “Don’t. You can’t know what connections he has. What if you piss someone bad off and they come after you?”

Gavin crossed his arms sullenly, sitting down on the toilet. He glowered at the wall darkly.

“I’d be doing the world a favour,” he insisted, before relenting with a sigh. “Don’t worry, luv. I’ll stay safe, promise.”

“You better,” Meg threatened jokingly. She busied herself scrubbing her skin with soap. If she’d known how unbearable her target was, she wouldn’t have rigged things to get a shoot with him. It was still a valid plan, one she felt committed to now - it’d be a shame to waste the opportunity, after all the effort she put into it. Still, she hadn’t expected it to get to her. It helped, being able to vent and to have Gavin’s indignant support.

“Well,” Meg said philosophically as she turned the water off, sliding the glass pane aside. Gavin was there in a heartbeat, offering her two towels, one for her hair and one to wrap herself in. She took them one after the other with a big smile. “At least I can look forward to my next shoot. That guy is pretty decent.”

“Oh?” Gavin inquired, quirking an eyebrow as he stepped back to give her space. While Meg toweled her hair, he added teasingly, “Anyone I should be aware of?”

Meg snorted, crouching down and rummaging through the cupboard under the sink until she found the brush and hair dryer she was looking for. She used her hair towel to clear up a section of the mirror, catching Gavin’s eye in the reflection over her shoulder.

“Oh, you know,” she drawled, giving her wet hair a quick brush through and spraying it with heat resistance liquid. “Cute guy. Quite the gentleman. Pretty hot.”

She turned on the dryer, and Gavin had to wait for her to finish to respond to her statement. He was tapping away on his phone, waiting for her. He put it away immediately when she turned the dryer off.

“So,” Gavin quipped with a small smile, stepping up behind Meg and dropping his hands to frame her hips. “This hot guy you’re looking forward to working with… Any reason for me to get jealous?”

“Nah,” Meg drawled, giving her hair a couple more strokes before putting down the brush. “He’s not that much of a dreamboat. Got a big nose. But I guess nobody can be perfect.”

“Oy,” Gavin objected, chuckling. “I have it on good authority that the size of my nose makes me look rugged and handsome.”

Meg turned around to face him, her lips quirked up into a grin. “Oh, yeah?” she laughed, her fingers splaying out over his chest. “And whose authority would that be?”

As if to prove a point, Gavin encircled her wrists loosely, rubbing their noses together with a besotted smile. Laughing, she pushed him backwards, and he followed her lead, letting her push him out of the bathroom and towards the bed.

“And well, it’s said to be proportional, innit?” Gavin added, dragging her arms up to rest on his shoulders. It caused her towel to slip, but Gavin reacted quickly, pinning it in place with one hand while he wrapped his other arm around her waist. She giggled, pressing closer.

“Hm, is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Meg hummed, batting her lashes. Gavin squawked indignantly, making her laugh. “Well, I suppose he’s adequate. And decent in bed. Or so they say.”

“I’ll show you ‘decent’,” he muttered under his breath, turning them around and toppling her onto the bed. She went easily, laughing at his disgruntled expression.

“You can always try to convince me otherwise, you know,” Meg mentioned slyly, waggling her brows. She tugged her towel open, letting it drop onto the bed. One hand curled around his neck, dragging him in for a quick and dirty kiss.

“That’s what you’re after, huh? A demonstration of skill?” Gavin accused her, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. He hovered over her carefully, one hand trailing up her arm and over her collarbone. Meg hummed and closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle touch.

“They say practice makes perfect,” she teased, dragging her nails lightly over his back, scrunching up his shirt. Gavin stared at her intently, pupils slowly dilating as he looked her over. He leaned down, catching her bottom lip between his teeth, thumb smoothing over her collarbone. Meg exhaled shakily, arching up to press her skin against his, soaking in the heat radiating through his shirt. Gavin’s teeth scraped over her lip, and then his tongue was pressing in. She retaliated immediately, pushing her own against his, lips moving over his. Heat pooled low in her stomach.

“I do like to practice,” he agreed as they broke apart, his lips brushing over hers with each word. Meg opened her eyes, watching him lazily from behind lowered lids. He was holding himself up with one arm, using the other hand to trace a line down between her breasts, circling around below them. His thumb brush over her nipple, and Meg arched her back with a low moan. It felt like little sparks dancing under her skin.

Gavin bowed his head, kissing the corner of her mouth, then nibbled along her jaw and licked down her neck. She let her eyes fall shut and her head sink back into the pillow, exposing more of her throat, enjoying the feel of his teeth scrape over her jugular. His fingers were dancing over her stomach, while the other hand kept playing with her breast. Gavin paused to worry at her shoulder, sucking in the skin between his teeth and licking over the spot again and again, until she was sure it’d leave a hickey.

No matter. They could cover it up with make-up later.

His hand wandered lower as he slid further down, mouthing at her neglected breast. His tongue played with the nip, and he pinched the other between thumb and finger, rolling it between them. His other palm laid flat on her lower stomach, and she twisted the fingers of her free hand in Gavin’s hair, arching her back when he dipped his fingers lower, between her folds in response.

“Keep going,” she urged breathlessly, tugging lightly on his hair as her hips thrust up. Gavin hummed, the vibrations travelling through her like a shock, and Meg bit off a strangled groan.

Gavin tongued her clit at the same time he twisted his finger inside her, and Meg exhaled sharply, nails scratching along his scalp. Encouraged, he switched to licking her broadly, pulling his finger out to trace the rim before plunging back inside. Her hips stuttered, and she pulled his head down as she arched up to meet him. Gavin huffed, hot air that felt cool against her overheated flesh, and then sucked on her clit in earnest.

She felt her orgasm build, her thighs trembling around Gavin’s head. A tongue brushed over her folds, then lips closed around her clit and _sucked_ \- Shivers ran up her spine, and Meg chanted his name under her breath again and again as her folds twitched and fluttered,  teetering on the edge of oversensitivity and floating in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Fuck,” she rasped, tugging a smugly smirking Gavin up to her. She dragged him in for a desperate kiss, ignoring the wetness smeared around his mouth. Gavin chuckled, lowering himself until he was covering her with his own body.

“Decent enough?” he joked as they broke apart, and Meg choked on her laugh, wildly grabbing for a pillow to shove into his face.

 

* * *

 

Meg inspected her reflection in the mirror, tugging the garter holding her gun a little higher and the skirt lower to better hide it. She frowned, pulling up her hair in a bun before shaking her head and letting it tumble freely over her shoulders. Instead she adjusted her bra and neckline so that one could catch a glimpse of lace if she moved _just so_. A long necklace to dangle between her boobs and draw the attention there- yes, perfect. Meg freshened up her makeup, then grabbed her purse and walked into the living room.

Gavin was hunched over his laptop, clicking furiously. He looked up when she entered, though, giving her a quick smile. Meg leaned over the back of the couch to brush a quick kiss on his cheek and offer him a nice view down her cleavage.

“You sure you’re okay with me going out, boy?” she asked, draping her arms around Gavin’s shoulders and trying to sneak a glimpse of what he was working on. He casually clicked out of the window and back into his editing program before she could make out what he’d been googling, though.

“It’s fine, Turney,” Gavin assured her, patting her arm. “It’s girls night out, innit? Go have fun at the club, luv. I gotta finish editing these shots anyway. And if I get bored I’ll play some games with Michael.”

He gestured at the xbox, and Meg smiled, dragging his head back so she could kiss him upside down. God, but she loved him. He was so easygoing and sweet and she dreaded the day he’d find out about her other job. She honestly couldn’t gauge what his reaction would be.

“If you’re sure.” Meg drew back reluctantly, but work was calling. And she loved what she was doing, no doubt about it, but tonight she really felt more like cuddling with Gavin on the couch than taking care of the Sleazeball. However, she’d already kicked things off with the shoot, it was time for the grand finale of the play.

“I’m sure, girl,” Gavin laughed, craning his neck to watch her walk towards the door. “Use protection!” he called after her, and Meg snorted.

“You know I’ll introduce you first, no matter how tempting,” she yelled back, slipping into a pair of black strap high heels. “If we’re spicing up our sex lives, we do it together. We talked about that, Gavino.”

There was a yelp and a clatter from the couch, then Gavin’s head peeked out of the door. He was blushing a deep red.

“I meant the pepper spray, you mong,” he objected, frowning at her. “I’d feel better if you took my gun. Los Santos is bloody dangerous at night.”

“You know I don’t have a carry license,” Meg waved him off, her stomach churning with guilt. Her small pistol was burning against her thigh. She grabbed her purse and pulled out the pepper spray to show him. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got a knife, too, just in case.”

Gavin stepped up to her, cupping her face and pulling her into a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Stay safe,” he whispered. Meg smiled up at him, giving him another quick kiss.

“I will,” she promised, dropping her hands down from his arms to squeeze his butt. Gavin yelped, startled. Laughing, Meg grabbed her jacket and purse, waving goodbye. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back!”

The streets of Los Santos were hot in the day, but during spring a slight chill would creep in by night. Meg called a cab to take her to the club that would provide her alibi for the job, a relatively new establishment only a couple blocks off from where her quarry lived. She smiled at the bouncer, got the stamp at the entrance and mingled for half an hour. The dancefloor was full, the rooms dark, and it was easy to bump into someone and nick their keys, then slip away and out of the employees’ entrance. The parking lot was full of potential vehicles, but also monitored by two cameras she could see.

Swaying on her feet, she stumbled among the rows of cars, playing up the drunk party girl image who forgot where she parked as she clicked the remote and kept an eye out for flashing headlights.

An old audi lit up, perfectly common and unremarkable. Good.

Meg took a mental inventory of her weapons on the short drive, pistol at her thigh, knife in her purse. Another knife taped to her back in its sheath. She touched up her lipstick in the rearview mirror before leaving the car at the curb and making her way into the apartment building. She checked the mailboxes and doorbells, concluding that her target lived on the third floor. The door to the complex was easily jammed open, the lock rusty and failing. The elevator was in a better condition, and Meg straightened her back on the way up, finger-brushing her curls and messing her hair up a little for effect. She had a story to tell, and even if her victim wasn’t that bright, the longer she managed to fool him the better. And the devil’s in the details.

He answered the third time she knocked.

“What?” he barked. Then he stopped short, eyeing her up and down. His gaze lingered on the generous amount of cleavage her top showed off.

“Hey, Chase,” Meg greeted, lowering her lashes bashfully. “I- look, I came to apologize for the other day. Can I come in?”

He stepped back wordlessly and opened the door wide. Meg glanced at him from the corner of her eyes as she scurried past. His face was suspiciously blank, eyes locked on either her butt or legs. At a guess, she’d say he was daydreaming of where this meeting would go.

Well. She’d hate to disappoint.

The apartment was typical for a bachelor - plain, preinstalled furniture, messy. Nude and half-nude posters were plastered on the wall, interspersed only with the occasional sportscar or motorbike. Yuck. But not entirely unexpected. She stopped in the doorway to his bedroom, looking down and twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

“Okay, so the thing is… I feel like we started off on the wrong foot, Chase. I’m sorry about how bitchy I was at the shoot, really, it’s nothing against you- quite the opposite, really,” Meg babbled, turning her head away and willing herself to blush. She thought of Gavin’s tongue inside her, the feel of his dick in her mouth, letting him cum on her face, and hoped that was dirty enough to force some colour on her cheeks.

“I was so… distracted by you, everything you do, you’re... I just- I was so embarrassed,” she said, lowering her voice towards the end. “You’re just so hot, and I lost my head. It was unprofessional of me.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, then,” he replied with a smug smirk, and Meg had to force herself not to roll her eyes. “Obviously you’ve come to your senses since you’re here now. I’ll accept your apology and won’t make any trouble for you.” He paused for dramatic effect, crossing his arms. “On one condition.”

“Oh, thank you!” Meg simpered, lifting a hand to hide her mouth delicately. Disgustingly predictable. “Anything, really- if you just give me a chance to make up for the blunder-”

“Don’t worry, babe, it’s nothing much,” Chase said, leering at her. “In fact, I’ll only ask for some topless shots to make up for it. Fair’s fair, and all that.”

Meg feigned a look of surprise. “You mean, here? Right now?”

“Well, if you _want_ to involve the studio, I _guess_ ,” he drawled condescendingly, arching an imperious brow. Meg bit her lip, lowering her lashes to hide the triumph surging through her. _Hook, line and sinker_.

“I- I mean,” she stuttered timidly, rubbing her arm. “Would it be okay if we used your bed for the shoot?”

“Sure, babe.” Chase shrugged, uncrossing his arms. “ _I_ don’t want to make this anymore difficult for you.”

“Oh… Okay. Um,” Meg mumbled, crossing her arms under her chest and shifting her boobs up a bit. His gaze dropped down immediately. This was too easy, Meg thought with a sneer. “I’ll… go get ready in the bathroom then…?”

She trailed off, composing her expression into something nervously excited. It took him a while to tear his gaze away, humming inquiringly. Then he blinked, head jerking up.

“Uh, right. It’s through there.”

Meg gave him a tight smile, holding her purse close as she slipped by and closed the door behind her. Then she wrinkled her nose, taking in the dirty laundry lying on every available surface. She carefully picked her way over to the mirror and used the comparatively fresh looking towel to clear a bit of space for her stuff.

Then she got to work.

Zip ties were easy to get out of if you knew how. However, she doubted her target had the knowledge or the pain tolerance to pull it off. She stuck them in her bra, leaving the top and skirt on the countertop. Next came the knife in her purse. She turned it around in her hands before putting it down with a sigh, she’d have to get it later or use the one taped to her back. She needed her hand to hide the gun, though.

She left the garter on, sure he would be too distracted by her semi-nudity to notice it doubled as a holster.

When Meg ambled back into the bedroom, she noticed that Chase had cleared off the bed and the space around it, a tripod with the camera standing a couple feet away. Her target was lounging on top of the bed, propping himself on his hands as he leaned back with a lascivious grin. She had to suppress her disgust as she walked over to straddle him, the hand holding the gun hidden behind her back the entire time.

“So, uh,” Meg started coyly, giving Chase a seductive look. Her free hand trailed over his shoulder and down to his chest. “How do you want to do this?”

“Well,” he drawled, eyes level with her chest as she stretched. “I suppose we should start with taking this off, and then go from there.”

That said he reached for her bra, but Meg shied away before he could touch her, eyes narrowed. She pulled the gun on him, pressing the muzzle directly between his eyes.

“I don’t think so, sweetie,” she replied calmly, sliding off his lap. “Turn around, hands behind your back.”

“Wha-” Chase stared at her, jaw dropping to his chest and eyes widening. “I haven’t- I didn’t- I thought-”

“You thought wrong,” Meg stated calmly, cocking the gun for emphasis. “Turn. Around.”

Quaking in fear, he obeyed her. It was easy to slip the zip ties around his hands behind his back, immobilizing him enough for her to check if the camera was recording. It was. Well, good enough for her - she needed proof of a confession anyway, and this was easier than to make him write and sign it. Meg put her gun down, well out of her victim’s reach, and pulled out the knife from her back.

“You’ve been a very, very bad boy, Chase Williams. It’s time to confess your sins, sweetheart.”

Meg laughed as he struggled, eyes glued to the large knife in her hand. She turned it so it caught the light, stalking towards the bed in a half circle. He wouldn’t take long to crack, but she would enjoy every last moment of making him squeal.

“Don Corleone sends his regards, Mr. Williams,” Meg explained, crawling onto the bed with a gleam in her eyes. Chase shrunk back, shaking.

“Now, darling. I just have a couple questions for you,” Meg stated, drawing the tip of her knife across his cheek. “And you will answer truthfully. Understand?”

The man whimpered, trying to lean away from her knife. As soon as she pulled back a bit he was nodding hastily.

“It was Harry! Harry’s idea! I went over to him and-” he babbled, but there was something calculating in his eyes. Meg sighed. So he still thought he could get out of this alive. Pathetic.

She tutted, tipping up his chin with her knife.

“I should cut out your traitorous tongue for lying to me,” she snarled and watched in satisfaction as he trembled. “What, did you think I wouldn’t know? Try again.”

Afterwards, she cleaned up her supplies in the bathroom. No reason to leave unnecessary evidence behind. With a little luck the missing data card would go unnoticed, considering how messy the apartment was. She’d stashed the camera and tripod back into the corner it’d stood in when she first entered.

Having gotten everything she needed, Meg left the apartment with a busted lock, making it look like someone broke in. She parked her borrowed car somewhere in the parking lot of the club and dropped the keys on the dancefloor to be found by the cleaning crew later. A glance at her phone and the clock decided her to stay for another hour, for credibility.

Then she called a cab and texted Gavin, high on adrenaline and starting to feel the exhaustion. She could really use some cuddles now.

 

* * *

 

“Chin up  and forward a little- there you go, luv, that’s perfect. Beautiful.”

The sound of the camera’s shutter going off filled the room. Meg switched from one pose to another, adjusting as directed.

“Alright. Gorgeous. Okay, I think we’re set,” the photographer called out, snapping a couple last shots. “Yep, we’re good!”

“Alright, folks, take five before we set up the other location. Good work, everyone,” the producer decided, waving Meg over. “Let’s take a look at what we’ve got so far.”

Meg took the time to shrug on a fluffy robe before ambling over. The producer was leaning over the photographer’s shoulder, pointing at something on the screen. They both looked up when she joined them, Gavin wrapping an arm around her waist as Meg dropped into his lap. He absently offered her a granola bar, clicking through the photos. She dropped a kiss to his temple gratefully.

“Anything good?” she asked between bites, draping her free arm over Gavin’s shoulders.

“Loads,” he declared, turning to grin at her. “You’re doing great, luv.”

Meg swatted at him with a laugh. “Charmer,” she accused as he tried to duck out of the way without dislodging her.

“No, Mr. Free is onto something,” the producer interrupted drily, ignoring the byplay. He pointed out three shots in particular. “I think we can mark these for print, maybe that one as well depending how the other sets hold up. Good job, Meg.”

“Thanks,” she laughed, watching as Gavin clicked through the rest of the photos, the producer commenting on one or the other every now and then. Meg busied herself chewing on her bar, soaking in the warmth of Gavin pressed close. Her break would end soon, having to change outfits and maybe redo her hair.

“Meg!” a voice called, and they all looked up to see her assistant slash agent hurrying towards them. Meg frowned, wondering what had Mariel so worried. “There’s a police officer wanting to talk to you? About a Chase Williams? He says it’s urgent.”

Meg’s eyebrows flew up in genuine surprise. Well, that was quick for the LSPD.

“Isn’t that the newcomer photographer?” the producer inquired mildly. Meg nodded absently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I had a shoot with him last week. I wonder what this is about…?” she trailed off, looking at Mariel questioningly. Her agent shrugged. No hints that they connected her to his death, then. Good.

Not that she doubted Mariel. The woman had a great poker face, and they’d become fast friends since they started working together.

“Maybe someone finally pressed charges and they want a statement?” Gavin joked darkly, his brow furrowed. Meg shot him a look. “Wot? Everyone knows he’s a prick.”

Mariel shook her head, and Meg sighed. The producer coughed into his fist, staring resolutely at the screen.

“Alright. If they’re fine with coming into the changing room, I really need to get ready for the next setting,” Meg declared, brushing a kiss to Gavin’s cheek and waving at the producer before following Mariel out. Showtime. Meg steeled herself, putting on a blank but slightly curious expression. Something the officer might expect.

“Miss Turney,” the man said with a small smile, reaching out a hand for Meg to shake. “My name is Detective Luna for the LSPD. I would like to ask you a couple questions.”

“Detective,” Meg replied calmly, shaking his hand firmly. She gave him a strained smile. “I’m on a tight schedule, I’m afraid. If you wouldn’t mind moving this to the changing room? I need to get ready for my next set.”

“Of course!” Luna said, eyeing her carefully. “I mean, as long as that doesn’t make you uncomfortable? I can wait to ask questions later.”

“What, during the shoot?” Meg laughed, shaking her head. “Sorry, I don’t think you’ll find a better time than right now.”

“Then lead the way!” Luna said, and Meg had to fight a real smile at his enthusiasm. Unlike from other men, it didn’t come across as creepy. More like he enjoyed his job and talking to people.

The second she walked into the room she dropped the robe, silently handing it over to Mariel. She glanced at Detective Luna from the corner of her eyes, who blinked rapidly and blushed lightly before resolutely averting his eyes. Interesting. Meg chuckled, slipping behind the folding screen.

“So what is it you wanted to know, Detective?” Meg inquired teasingly as she changed out of the lingerie with Mariel’s help. Next up was a corset, that would take a moment to tie up properly. Hopefully long enough to shake the copper before she went out to her shoot. Better not let him near Gavin or he might overhear another comment like earlier.

The last thing she wanted was the police suspecting Gavin. The worry hit her like a sudden hunger pang, turning her stomach.

“When was the last time you saw Chase Williams?” the Detective asked, a rustle of paper indicating he took out a noteblock. Meg glanced over the screen, amused.

“Chase? Not since the L’oreal shoot last week.” Meg paused to grunt as Mariel tugged the corset tight. “Why? Did he do something?”

There was the sound of pen scratching on paper, before Luna looked up to eye her contemplatively.

“What makes you assume he did something?” he queried, voice carefully neutral. Meg stuck her head over the partition, giving him blank look.

“He’s a bit of a creep, you know? Wouldn’t put it past him to get in trouble.” A calculated shrug as she stepped into her heels and around the screen. “Besides, this is Los Santos. What else could it be?”

Luna hummed thoughtfully, keeping his eyes determinedly up. It was adorable.

“How well did you know Mr. Williams?” the Detective inquired, pausing before cautiously adding, “Your, uh, coworkers from the job you worked together mentioned that he seemed, hm. Rather… interested.”

“He groped me, you mean,” Meg deadpanned, settling down in front of her mirror. Mariel was instantly at her side, brushing out her hair and curling it with a hot iron. Meanwhile Meg busied herself with touching up her makeup.

“...if you want to put it that way,” Miles agreed carefully, catching her eyes in the mirror. Meg gave him an amused grin.

“Don’t worry, Detective, you won’t offend me. Sadly, it’s part and parcel with this job. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last,” Meg explained offhandedly, smudging the edges of her makeup. “So, yes. Chase was harassing me during the last shoot, but I won’t press charges, either. Unless you want me to collaborate someone else’s account? Is that what this is about, Detective?”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luna said, and he sounded genuinely distraught. Meg blinked in surprise. “Um. I guess it’s not exactly bad news for you, then, but, uh. We found Mr. Williams’ body today. He was killed three days ago.”

“Killed?” Meg repeated, putting some of her previous surprise into her voice now. “As in, murdered?”

“Yes, Miss. I’m sorry. Or, uh-” the Detective stumbled over his words, shifting uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. “It’s just protocol at this point, but can you account for your whereabouts on the night of the ninth?”

“I think... yeah, that night I was checking out that new club, on the 67th and Crossington,” Meg thought aloud, snagging her purse and rummaging through it. “Met some friends, I can give you their names. But… I’m sure I still have… Ah ha! The receipts from the cabs to and back.”

She offered the two slips of paper to the Detective, who glanced over them and took a quick photo. Mariel finished up with her hair, and Meg stood up as the Detective handed them back, stuffing them into her purse haphazardly.

“Well, if you have anymore questions, you’ll have to ask them on the way to the set,” Meg said, smiling apologetically. Luna smiled back.

“There’s just a couple more things, and I’ll let you carry on,” he stated, falling into step with her. “But I can ask them while we walk. Are you aware of any enemies Mr. Williams might have had?”

Meg shrugged casually, leading the way.

“Only in that he was considered a rising star among photographers, and a dick among his co-workers,” she explained, winking at Luna. “But this is Los Santos. I may not know what dirty secrets he was hiding, but I’m sure he had some skeletons in his closet. Nobody stays clean in this city.”

“Even you, Miss Turney?” the Detective inquired teasingly, and Meg threw her head back and laughed.

“You wound me, Detective!” She gave him an overly innocent look and batted her lashes. “Could these eyes lie?”

Miles laughed, writing something down on his pad. Gavin looked up as they entered the stage, frowning at the officer escorting her. Meg took in the scene of the set. She had some good ideas to work here, which was a relief. Gavin seemed grumpy, though, glowering in their direction.

“Just one more thing, and you can return to work,” the Detective said, smiling amiably. “Did you notice anything off about Mr. Williams when you worked together? Anything different than usual about his routine or behavior?”

“Seeing as this was the first time we worked on the same shoot, I really couldn’t say,” Meg evaded, grimacing apologetically. From the corner of her eyes she saw Gavin standing up and walking over to them. Luna shrugged, mirroring her expression.

“Well, if you can think of anything, don’t hesitate to call, Miss Turney.” He handed her a standard police info card, just as Gavin appeared by her side.

“Something’s wrong with the lights, the new tech guy is working on it. You’ve got a bit room to breathe, Turney,” he interrupted them, eyeing the Detective up and down hostilely. He glanced at the card in Meg’s hand and demonstratively threw an arm around her shoulders. “You done here?”

“Yeah, we just finished,” Luna said, narrowing his eyes at where Gavin’s fingers were brushing her skin just above her neckline. “And you are…?”

“Gavin Free, photographer,” Gavin introduced himself, smiling with too many teeth. Luna bared his teeth as well in response. Meg blinked, taken aback. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on. “We still have work to do, Mr. Detective, so if you would.”

“Right,” Luna sneered, giving Gavin a dark look when he pulled Meg closer. It took a moment longer for the penny to drop, and when it did, it startled her, unexpectant as it was.

“Oh!” She looked between the two men, the possessive way Gavin curled around her and the threatening way the Detective glared at him for it. _Part and parcel,_ she’d said, hadn’t she? Meg swatted at Gavin’s chest with a grin. “Detective Luna wasn’t hitting on me, you moron. It’s the standard police one, see?”

She held up the card for Gavin to get a better look at, while she turned towards the Detective apologetically.

“I’m sorry for my _boyfriend_ , Detective. He gets jealous, sometimes.”

Detective Luna deflated immediately at her emphasis. It was kinda cute how worked up he got when he assumed this was another example of work harassment.

“Luna!” a different officer called, probably the Detective’s partner. He gave them both an apologetic smile before he turned and walked over to meet the other man. Meg took a second to ogle him, blond and tall and buff, but sadly a copper. Otherwise she might’ve suggested hitting on the guy to Gav. Oh well. She let her eyes linger for a second longer, before turning back to Gavin. He was still looking troubled, frowning after the Detective.

“New tech guy, you said?” she inquired, trying to change the subject.

“Uh, yeah. Some temp to fill in while Dyson’s sick. He better get things in order soon, though,” Gavin complained, and Meg kissed his cheek with a laugh.

Gavin gave her a small smile before gesturing towards the set, and she followed it curiously. The new tech guy was bent over some cables, muttering under his breath. He stood up, carding his fingers through blond locks in frustration. She let her gaze linger on his wide shoulders, but the thing she noticed first and foremost-

“Nice ass,” Meg murmured appreciatively, and Gavin hummed in agreement. They stood in companionable silence, watching the tech guy fumble with the lights. She wondered if they should approach him at the end of the shoot, since they were both clearly interested. Check if he would be up for some fooling around with the both of them.

“Pretty sure he checked you out earlier,” Gavin commented, mind obviously on the same track. He squeezed her hip, grinning down at her. “No wonder, really. You’re hot.”

Meg was about to answer, but harsh whispers distracted her. Subtly turning her head, she noticed the police officers gesticulating wildly at each other.

“- fits his M.O., it has to be the Vagabond. I want the rumours that he’s in town to be true as little as you do, but we’ve eliminated all other suspects-”

“What, you managed to rule out the model already? What about the photographer here, Free? He seemed inappropriately hostile,” the blond one argued heatedly. Meg squeezed Gavin’s hand nervously.

“She’s got an alibi. Besides, I can’t fault Free for disliking the guy, apparently he was a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen. He kept touching his girlfriend inappropriately, I’d be mad, too,” Luna disagreed vehemently. The other cop held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright! Geeze, Miles. I’d almost say you had a crush on her-” He held up a hand as Luna opened his mouth to protest. “-except I know better, of course. Still, you better log that info properly, in case it becomes important later on.”

“I always take care filling my paperwork correctly, Blaine,” the Detective objected, but Meg had stopped listening. Instead she caught Gavin’s gaze, eyes wide.

The Vagabond was in town. It was great that he drew suspicion away from her, even as her professional pride demanded she claim the death as her own. But… Gavin had already gotten too close into the range of fire, drawn too much suspicion. It was better to let dead dogs lie, or whatever. Let the Vagabond take credit for her kill, just this once. Williams’ mob connections would come to light soon enough, and what did it matter then which assassin they hired for the job? The Don knew and appreciated her work, that was good enough. He’d make sure his associates would know who to contact.

Gavin’s grip on her hand tightened.

“If- the Vagabond, that’s the crazy skull serial killer, innit?” He swallowed, glancing around nervously and lowering his voice. “Promise me to stay safe? Don’t go out alone, and maybe get that carry license? It’s unlikely, but what if he starts going through the entire crew working on that shoot?”

Gavin’s concern startled her, especially since she knew the truth. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and once again she wished she could tell him the truth. And… maybe she will, some day. But for now she’d like to keep things how they are, keep Gavin out of this life and as innocent as she can. He probably didn’t even realize how bad the city was when he came over from England, following the call for adventure and job offers.

What would he think of her, when she revealed what she really did? And what did it make her, that she could say with certainty that she enjoyed it?

He didn’t want her to get hurt. But neither did she want to hurt him.

“Gav-” She cut herself off, giving him a wobbly smile. “Okay. If that makes you feel better, boy, then- yeah, okay.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning in and burying his nose in her hair. “It- it really would.” He mustered a smile for her. “Thanks, girl.”

The rest of the shoot went more or less smoothly, even distracted as she was. With the internal conflict roiling in her stomach, she forgot to pull the tech guy aside, though she did catch him staring at Gavin several times.

Well. Maybe she could get his number from the production team later. Or they’d run into each other again. Wouldn’t that be funny?

 

* * *

 

Gavin was very deliberately picking holes and nicks into the couch table with a knife when Michael and Jeremy entered the penthouse with boisterous cheer. They brought Chinese takeout, dropping their prize on the table he was working on. Gavin barely looked up to glower at them, sweeping the food away from the space he kept carving into. He could feel their eyes on him, but he. didn’t. care.

“Sup, boi,” Michael broke the silence carefully. “What’d the table ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” Gavin ground out, jabbing holes in what vaguely resembled a dick outline. He exhaled heartily, closing his eyes and counting till ten before he opened them again. “Police is going round asking folks about the murder of this Williams bloke. Got dragged into the questioning while they’re at it. As a civilian, I mean.”

Both at them had tensed up at the mention of cops.

“They suspect you of anything?” Jeremy asked, exchanging a look with Michael. “We gotta do any clean-up?”

“Nah,” Gavin sighed and shook his head. “They think Vagabond did it. Since he’s back in town. Don’t know if he did it, though, no one’s claiming the kill.”

“The Vagabond’s back?” Michael echoed, sitting up straighter. “Dude, you gotta tell Geoff. He’s been trying to get in contact for awhile now.”

“Kiss-ass,” Jeremy accused him with a bright grin. Then he turned to Gavin. “So who did he off this time?”

“Chase Williams, this photographer dude.” Gavin shrugged, scowling down at the table. “No known connections to organized crime in the city, unless you count his personality. Some indecent exposure charges, facilitating prostitution, that kinda stuff. Believe me, I checked.”

“Why are you so obsessed with this murder then?” Michael asked, throwing his hands in the air. “He wasn’t anyone important, not one of our contacts or really anyone of consequence. So what if no one’s claimed the kill yet?”

“Be _cause_ ,” Gavin snapped, frowning. “I was trying to convince Geoff to put the guy on our shitlist, but he said no.”

“So he or Jack changed their minds and ordered the hit,” Jeremy put in, shrugging. “It happens, man.”

“Yeah, except I asked Geoff, and he swore up and down he didn’t,” Gavin grumbled, stabbing the table viciously. Michael and Jeremy shared a look.

“So what, you’re upset the guy you wanted dead mysteriously wound up dead?” Jeremy queried incredulously. “What’d the dude even do to you?”

Gavin twisted the knife, burying it in deeper.

“He was an asshole that kept harassing my girlfriend,” he spat, digging the knife out of the wood with a grunt.

“What, your imaginary girlfriend? Really?” Michael arched both of his brows. “That’s what this is about? You putting on a show to convince us she’s real?”

“She _is_ real, you prick!” Gavin protested, dropping the knife to cross his arms sullenly. “And before you start, I know I can’t like, chase off all the dicks who ever talked to her. Don’t have to, anyway. She can defend herself.”

Gavin dragged his hands through his hair, making a frustrated noise. Jeremy and Michael watched him quietly.

“You didn’t see her afterwards. She was so visibly upset- I’ve never seen her so upset by some mingey perv.”

Gavin slumped into his seat, exhausted. It was a good thing the smegpot was dead, of course. But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t protect Meg in the first place, never mind exacting revenge. Jeremy and Michael dropped onto the couch on either side of him, nudging him with their elbows.

“Cheer up, boi,” Michael teased, and Gavin looked up suspiciously. “You nearly convinced me of her existence this time.”

“Oh, shut up, you mong,” Gavin groaned, swatting at Michael. On his other side, Jeremy laughed.

“It’d probably help if you introduced us,” he offered with a shrug.

“Oh, what a great idea, Jeremy! Can’t believe I didn’t think of that!” Gavin mocked, pitching his voice high. “I can just see it! ‘These are my best buds, luv, Mogar and Rimmy Tim! Don’t worry, they’re not half-bad once you get to know them.’ Yeah, I can imagine that going over well.”

“What, you ashamed of me, boi?” Michael joked, and Gavin squawked in protest.

“Of course not, boi!” Gavin looked down pensively, growing serious. “It’s just… She’s amazing, you know? She’s funny and beautiful and perfect and- I don’t want to lose her, Michael.”

He let the truth of that confession linger for a moment, before quickly changing the topic.

“Jeremy, however, I’m just plain ashamed of,” Gavin teased, flashing the other lad a shit-eating grin.

“What!” Jeremy wailed, palm pressed to his chest with a wounded look. “Why?!”

“Because you’re a walking fashion disaster, Lil J!” Gavin yelled back, gesticulating enthusiastically. “Purple and orange, Jeremy! Those colours were not meant to be combined!”

“You forgot the yellow,” Jeremy pointed out, waggling his eyebrows.

“Like that makes it any better!” Gavin shouted back, but he was grinning now. “She’s a model, you know, I cannot, in good conscience, ask her to confront _that_.”

“Ooooh, and now she’s a model,” Michael mocked him, driving his elbow into his side.

“Next thing you know, she does nude shots,” Jeremy joined in on the teasing.

“It’s called boudoir photography, and she’s really good at those,” Gavin objected to Michael and Jeremy’s rising amusement.

“No, _really_?”

Gavin paused, giving them the stink eye. “You both suck.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's wrong with Gavin. Meg is determined to find out what.

“I don’t know, Gavino,” Meg said, holding the earrings up to the light as she eyed them critically. “They’re beautiful, no doubt, but not really my style, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Everything pales compared to your beauty, luv,” Gavin lamented with a grin, dropping a kiss in her hair. “But you’re right, they’re a bit crass for you. What do you think of this, instead?”

Meg turned her head to look where he was pointing at a beautiful heart pendant on a slim gold chain. Her breath caught at the sight.

“Is that white sapphire?” she asked breathlessly, leaning over the counter to admire the necklace. The shop’s assistant was quick to pull it out to present it to Gavin, eager to sell. Meg’s gaze lingered on the price tag, however.

“You mean, it’s not diamond?” Gavin exclaimed, sounding put out. Meg shot him a disbelieving look.

“Diamonds are overpriced luxury nonsense, and white sapphires are beautiful, expensive jewels, boy,” she pointed out, her eyes drawn back to the heart pendant. “Case in point. This is too much, Gav.”

“Turney,” he replied seriously, leaning past her to grab the necklace. He lifted up her hair, sliding the chain around her neck, the pendant coming to rest in the hollow of her throat. Meg lifted a hand to touch it gently. “It’s our anniversary. Let me spoil you for once.”

“I-” She looked up, the assistant offering her a mirror. Meg stared for a long moment, fingertips brushing along the chain. Reluctantly, she put the mirror down. “It’s beautiful.”

Gavin pulled her around, dragging her close. He tipped up her chin and leaned in for a slow, sensual kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and she felt hot all over, her nether regions tight with want. His arms were wrapped around her, hands in publicly acceptable places, and for a second all she wanted was his thigh between her legs and his hands on her ass.

“Then it’s yours, girl,” he whispered against her lips, stepping back with a smile. He turned to the shop assistant, one arm still firmly wrapped around her waist as he held his card out. “We’re taking this one.”

They left the shop together, arms linked, her new necklace glinting in the afternoon sun. Meg rested her head on Gavin’s shoulder, a slight smile dancing around her lips.

“You’re an asshole,” she declared mischievously, blinking innocently up at him. Gavin startled. “How am I supposed to top this?”

“It’s not a competition, Turney,” Gavin chuckled, shaking his head lightly. His eyes lingered off to the side for a moment, and he tensed, before he relaxed and kept walking. “‘Sides, I _do_ have a suggestion-”

“I am not buying you a golden dildo,” Meg replied flatly, ramming her elbow into his side distractedly. She let her gaze wander over the spot Gavin was staring at, wondering what had caught his attention, but not making out anything in particular.

“Awww, but luv,” Gavin whined theatrically, backing away from her and rubbing his side. She was expecting him to add another jibe, but he stayed silent. When she looked back to him, he was scanning the crowd, his shoulders up to his ears and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Boy?” she inquired uncertainly, following his gaze. Only a vaguely familiar, hot blond jumped out to her. She squinted, wishing she had worn her glasses today. Was that the temp tech? Too bad that on their anniversary date really wasn’t the right time to ask for a threesome, if he was. Meg wasn’t sure at this distance.

“Hm?” Gavin hummed questioningly, his attention still on the crowd. Meg stepped up to his side, frowning. Something was making him nervous.

“How do you feel about taking the bike out for a ride?” she asked casually, gaze flittering around to figure out what was going on. Was someone threatening her boyfriend? Blackmailing him, maybe? He liked to take landscape shots at all times of the day, but especially dusk and dawn, had gone out several times since they moved in together. What if he caught something on camera, and the criminals in question noticed? Whatever it was, it’d be better to cut this short and get out of here. “I’m done shopping if you are.”

“Sure,” he said, glancing down at her and cracking a strained smile. “Sounds lovely, girl.”

Meg smiled back, but she couldn’t get his flinching out of her head. Something was going on, and she’d figure out what. Or else.

 

* * *

 

“I need you to look into him,” Meg opened with as she stormed into Mariel’s office. She plopped into the visitor’s chair, slumping back until she was staring at the ceiling. Her new heart-shaped gem pendant dangled at the hollow of her throat.

“Look into who?” Mariel inquired mildly, not stopping typing as she glanced at her friend over the top of the monitor.

“Gav. He’s acting weird. Jumpy. Like he’s expecting something bad to happen any moment,” Meg explained, pulling off her glasses to gnaw at the end. “I just want to make sure he didn’t get mixed up in something bad.”

“Are you sure, Meg?” Mariel pried, eyeing her friend incredulously. Meg lifted her head to glare back, and Mariel held her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, this isn’t like you. Remember, _you_ ’re the one who insisted I didn’t look further than a standard background check. Something about relationships being built on trust?”

“I know, I know,” Meg whined, leaning forward. “Mariel, please? I just need to know he’s not in trouble.”

“But are you sure you want to know for certain?” Mariel pressed, holding up her hand to stop Meg as she opened her mouth. “I mean it, Meg. I’ll look into this for you if you want. But keep in mind that everyone in Los Santos has at least one dirty secret. You always say so yourself.”

“But Gavin’s from England,” Meg protested, fiddling with her heart pendant. Mariel gave her a flat look.

“And he’s been living in LS for how long, now?” She shrugged, turning her attention back to her monitor. “Besides, isn’t he like half-Italian? He might have ties to the mafia,” she added jokingly.

“Yeah, right.” Meg snorted disbelievingly. Mariel shot her a distracted grin, so Meg sat back and mulled it over. She bit her lower lip. “I still need to know, Mariel. I need to know I’ll still have a boyfriend to come back to after New York.”

Mariel gave her a long look, before nodding slowly. “I will research him, if you ask.”

“I’m asking,” Meg replied firmly, nodding decisively. Then, she smiled. “Thanks, Mariel.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Mariel muttered darkly, shooing her out. Meg laughed, blowing her a kiss on the way out, a skip in her steps. Mariel shook her head, yelling after her, “This gonna end in tears!”

 

* * *

 

“Girl, have you seen my tablet?” Gavin called from the kitchen. Meg was lounging on the couch, idly zapping through the TV.

“Weren’t you playing with it last night? Check your bedside table,” Meg shot back, lifting her head from the couch arm. Gavin rushed by, looking harried. She stared after him with an amused look. A phone vibrated on the couch table, and Meg heaved herself up with a sigh, snatching it off the table. Maybe Mariel had finally found something text-worthy.

“Found it! Thanks, Turney!” Gavin yelled, and Meg grinned, looking down at the phone in her hand. She frowned. It was Gavin’s- in her impatience to hear back from Mariel she’d grown sensitive to any phone going off. But she wasn’t one to snoop, that had always been a relationship breaker for her. It’s why she insisted on restricting their initial research into Gavin to a standard background check.

“Don’t forget your keys. Or your phone,” she yelled back. There was the sound of a crash in the bedroom, and Meg shook her head, letting her arm drop down. The phone vibrated in her hand and she instinctively glanced at the lit-up screen.

**Micool**

_You sure it was the same guy, boi?Come over & maybe we’ll catch_...

Meg stared for a long second until the message preview vanished. Gavin was still in the bedroom, cursing up a storm as he was getting his things together. Meg worried at her lips, hesitating. Michael was Gavin’s best friend, maybe he knew what was going on? But. Checking his phone messages like a jealous girlfriend was not something Meg would usually do. She already felt guilty for asking Mariel to use her criminal research skills on her boyfriend.

She stared at the blank screen, then lit it back up. The preview message stared at her.

“You know where I put my keys, Turney?” Gavin shouted, and Meg flinched.

“In the bathroom, next to my jewelry bowl!” she yelled back, and closed her eyes as she swiped the lock screen open. She’d watched Gavin unlock it so often, she knew the pattern he used. Now it was all or nothing. Meg took a deep breath and chose his messenger app, clicking on the file that said ‘Micool’.

_You sure it was the same guy boi?_

_Come over & maybe we’ll catch him stalking you._

_Jeremy’ll cover you from the roof._

Those were the last three messages, sent within seconds after one another. Heart in her throat, Meg glanced towards the door, quickly scrolling upward, trying to find the start.

_Think someone is following me._

_Just a feeling._

_Is this another part of the prank, asshat?_

_Ever hear the story about the boy who cried wolf…_

_No you nob!! I’m being serious here._

_Okay okay! Chill boi._

_Look I didn’t think anything of it but I keep feeling like someone is watching me._

_It happened again the other day when I was out with the gf._

_So that why you’re only bringing it up now?_

_Shit boi how long has this been going on_

_Dunno. A week maybe?_

Meg’s heart skipped a beat. An entire fucking _week,_ and he hadn’t said anything? She couldn’t fucking believe him. The nerve. Her stomach roiled in worry.

_AN ENTIRE FUCKING WEEK_

_And you didn’t say something before WHY_

_I’m saying something now aren’t I?_

_You’re a fucking idiot._

_You gonna help me or not_

_You sure it was the same guy boi?_

Meg locked the phone and put it down, heart beating fast. Her hands were shaking. Gavin stumbled out of the bedroom, looking hassled and distracted. His preoccupation these last couple days took on an entirely different meaning in hindsight. She’d just thought he’d been busy.

Meg clenched her fists, pressing them against her thighs. Whatever trouble Gavin had gotten into- she’d get him out of it. He might not realize it, and mostly that was her fault for not saying anything, but. He had a powerful ally in her.

She’d make sure Gavin was safe again, no matter what.

“Right, I’m off. Dunno how long this is gonna take, so don’t stay up waiting for me,” Gavin said, buttoning up a lavender dress shirt. It suited him, but it was absolutely impractical for hand-to-hand. Meg’s lips pressed into a tight line.

Gavin leaned over the back of the couch to give her a quick kiss goodbye and- No. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

Meg slipped off the couch and around, stepping in front of Gavin with a small, sad smile. She lifted one hand to card her fingers through his hair, drawing him into a longer, insistent kiss. Her other arm wrapped around his hips, her hand snaking into his back pocket to leave his phone there. She pulled back slowly, his lower lip captured between hers before she let it go and patted his ass.

“Don’t forget your phone, idiot,” she chastised softly, and Gavin smiled down at her.

“Don’t know what I would do without you, Turney,” he admitted lightly, and Meg felt her throat close up. She smiled up at him, brushing their mouths together again.

“Stay safe, boy,” she whispered, clinging to his shirt.

“Will do,” he promised breathlessly before stepping back with a grin.

 _Liar_ , she thought uncharitably, smile fixed on her face. It only dropped when she heard the door fall shut.

Meg hurried to kitchen, climbing onto the counter to peer down the street. They lived on the third floor, it’d take Gavin a moment. It gave her just long enough to calm down her heart, even out her breathing. She had to focus. He left by foot, walking nonchalantly down the street, and Meg felt ready to strangle him. The idiot didn’t even check for pursuers! She knew he had a gun, but after this, she’d teach him about peripheral awareness.

A shadow peeled off the alley after he passed it, the figure stopping at the mouth to pull something black over their head.

Meg’s heart skipped a beat.

Then she threw herself off the counter and into a flurry of activity. She was wearing leggings and a skirt, not ideal to hide weapons but easy enough to fight in. She slipped on her thigh holster with the small pistol, taped the sheath of her favourite knife to the small of her back. Not ideal, nothing about this was ideal,  but she didn’t have _time_. She grabbed the closest mask, shoved the house key under the mat and _ran_.

Her flowy blouse hid the knife well enough as she ran down the flights of stairs, and it came with a decent range of motion. Meg always made sure none of her clothes were too restricting so she could fight if necessary, but she never had to really test it before.

She leaped down the last steps, and then she was outside.

Meg squinted against the sun, looking down the streets both ways, but neither Gav nor his stalker were to be seen. Fuck. Okay. Meg took a deep breath, steeling herself, before sprinting down after them. She glanced into the alley as she passed it, but found it reassuringly empty of corpses.

Gavin was more squirrelly than she gave him credit for, taking a lot more corners than were surely necessary. It was only by chance that she caught a glimpse of his stalker turning the next corner that she knew where to go. She ran after them, pausing at the corner to catch her breath and peer into the next street.

No sign of Gavin.

His pursuer seemed to have the same problem. Meg watched as he picked up his pace, turning his head as he looked for her boyfriend. She stifled a gasp as she saw the black mask in profile, her heart stuck in her throat.

She shrank back, leaning against the wall, clutching her own mask against her chest.

Shit. God-fucking-dammit.

The Vagabond.

The freaking _Vagabond_.

This was worse than she anticipated.

Meg took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. Well, so what? She was a fucking great assassin, thank you very much. She’d half-wished to run into the legendary mercenary on a job, test her mettle against his. _Be careful what you wish for_ , or whatever. The stakes were higher than she expected, so? It changed nothing about the situation.

 _We’re going to have a long talk about pissing off assassins, Gavino,_ she thought grimly.

Meg exhaled gustily, lifting her own mask and securing it in place. With another deep breath, she pushed off the wall and walked around the corner. Vagabond stood down at the other end of the street, contemplating his options. Gavin managed to shake him off for now, then. Good.

 _Today’s full of surprises_ , Meg mused as she power-walked down the street. Better not tip the Vagabond off that he had an assassin on his own trail. She hurried up when he took a left, but slowed down before she rounded the corner herself. She attached herself to a gaggle of teenage girls gathered in front of a boutique, ducking her head when he looked over his shoulder.

The Vagabond stopped by an alleyway, checking left and right before strolling down and out of sight. Meg cursed, pushing through the girls and running down the street to catch up, expecting the worst- she knew that alley lead to a dead end, so why would the Vagabond go down there unless he spotted Gavin?

She slid around the corner, heart beating hard in her chest, and froze.

The muzzle of a gun was staring straight back at her.

She slowly looked up from the weapon and into piercing, blue eyes. They seemed unsettlingly bright, surrounded by smudged, black paint and framed by the dark skull mask. Meg inched one foot back, firming up her stance. Things were about to get dicey.

“Why are you following me?” the Vagabond asked. His voice was deep, gravelly. Her lips quirked up into a tight smile. He cocked his head, eyeing her condescendingly. “Go back home, little girl. This bounty is too big for-”

Meg brushed the taunt off, ducking low in the middle of his little speech and coming back up under his guard. She knocked his gun arm up, pinching his wrist as she did, digging her nails in deep. A shot went off, and then the gun clattered to the ground. Meg kicked it behind the trash cans and danced back out of reach before he could react.

“Not a little girl,” she pointed out dryly, a little breathless. “And I’m not here for your head, asshole. I’m here to stop you going after _him_.”

Vagabond’s eyes narrowed, enough to be visible under the mask. He shook out his left hand, his right hidden as he grabbed for something on the inside of his jacket. Getting another gun? A knife?

“Who are you?” he growled, taking a threatening step forward. Meg shifted back apprehensively, but shot him a sweet smile nonetheless.

“Who, me?” she asked innocently. He lunged forward, grabbing for her, but Meg slipped sideways and past him. He whirled around to face her, his foot grazing her kneecap as he used the momentum for a kick.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with _dolls_?” she mocked him, trying to covertly regain her balance. He’d barely hit her, but she could tell already it would bruise. That kick packed one hell of a punch.

Better avoid getting hit at all.

Vagabond paused, mustering her with new intensity. Then he straightened, his hands dropping to his side. The right one was holding a big serrated knife loosely.

“Dollface,” he acknowledged with a tip of his head.

“Vagabond.” She bared her teeth, visible with the blank half-mask she was wearing. She usually preferred a full face mask when meeting with other criminals who’d likely survive the encounter, but she’d grabbed the closest one available in her haste. It had the advantage of leaving her mouth free, letting her speak properly.

“I didn’t know you worked for the Fakes.”

That threw her for a second. She knew of Ramsey’s crew, of course, how could she not? They were the rising star among the gangs of Los Santos. Even the big names were starting to stir, reaching out to Ramsey or sabotaging their heists. It was only a matter of time till things came to a head.

It would be interesting to see who remained when the dust settled, but she wasn’t particularly invested in either outcome.

“I don’t,” she replied coldly, fingering the knife at her back. His face was hard to read with that damn mask, but she could make out the way his icy eyes flickered to her hand.

“Then they hired you to play bodyguard for their golden boy,” Vagabond concluded with a sneer. He paused, eyeing her condescendingly. “I had thought better of you, after what I heard of your kills. Your former clients speak very highly of you, you know. I guess we all fall on hard times.”

Meg rolled her eyes at his little speech. Urgh. He’d probably been one of the drama kids in school.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” she replied flatly and didn’t give him a chance to respond. The gesture he started making gave her enough of an opening to dart forward, thrusting her knife into his side.

He didn’t fall for it a second time, though, parrying her knife with his own as he dodged. She sprang back quickly, barely evading his fist. Vagabond was stronger and had more reach than her, she had to act fast now that she’d lost the element of surprise.

Inhale, duck, stab, roll, exhale. Jump, kick, slash, dodge.

His knife grazed her back, cutting open her shirt. It caught on the hidden sheath, and Meg twisted away, ripping his knife out of his hand as she cried out in pain. It cluttered to the ground as she took a couple stumbling steps away from him. Vagabond pressed his advantage though, slamming her against the alley wall, knife forgotten.

“Who sent you?” he growled, pushing his arm against her throat. Meg swallowed, eyes wide. “If not the Fakes, who?”

“No one,” she croaked, one hand scrabbling uselessly at his sleeve, trying to loosen his hold. “I swear. He’s not a Fake, you must have the wrong person-”

Vagabond leaned back, taking his weight off her throat. Meg coughed, her hand coming up to rub at the sore skin. Vagabond kept an eye on her, while he rummaged through his jacket pocket with his free hand. He pulled out a creased photo and held it up for her.

“My target, the frontman of the Fakes. The blond, the other man is Jones, also going by Mogar,” he explained roughly.

Meg could barely hear him.

She stared at the shot - a blond man with golden sunglasses and several gold piercings up his ear, rings and golden watch on his hand, lifted to shade his face. His actual shades were pushed up into his hair, revealing his face-

Gavin. There was no doubt.

“...Jones?” she echoed, sounding confused even to her own ears. She felt brittle, like the next gust of wind would push her over and leave her in shards and pieces on the floor. “His best friend is- oh.”

Mogar Jones. M. Jones. _Michael_.

Vagabond took a step back, dropping his arm and pocketing the photo.

“He hasn’t told you,” he said evenly. Meg laughed, sounding half-hysterical.

“Hell no. I had no-” She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, head spinning.

Gavin was a Fake. Not just any Fake, but the frontman. She’d heard of him before, of his charm and silver tongue. Was this just a game, has he been using her to- what?

Protect him from random assassins? Did he time that text she’d spied, played the nervous prey? It made a ridiculous amount of sense, if-

If he knew she was Dollface.

Meg snorted, shaking her head. Yeah, right. As if Gavin was _that_ good at playing her, at playing the clueless, clumsy idiot. She didn’t believe for more than a second that he could be that subtle. Gavin was too honest, too vulnerable around her. He deserved some protection until she had time to confront him. Hell, for the great sex alone, he deserved the benefit of the doubt. And fuck it, she doubted. Doubted that everything was an act. The sweetness, the protectiveness, the gifts-

Her fingers clenched around the heart-shaped sapphire.

Meg looked up, watching the Vagabond shuffle awkwardly from under her lashes. This man was still a threat to Gavin, and thus a threat to her, and she wouldn’t forget that. Whatever happened with Gavin later- Well. She’d focus on the now.

Tightening the grip on her knife, she shifted forward.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding,” she murmured stiffly, and the Vagabond shrugged, relaxing a little.

“Hey, I get it. Betrayal is part of the business, but it stings,” he replied casually, his voice lighter now that he stopped trying to intimidate her. Meg barked out a laugh, stepping forward and patting his shoulder.

“It does,” she agreed, grinning crookedly. Her fingers dug into his leather jacket hard. “Which is why I’m sorry-” She pushed him hard up against the wall, and he stumbled backwards with the unexpected force. Her knife rested on his adam’s apple in the next moment, and her grin grew wild. “-but it’s nothing personal, darling.”

He stared at her coldly, expression closing off, and it wasn’t until then that she realized how readable he was even with the mask on, once he let his guard down. His eyes flicked over her shoulder to where he’d dropped his own knife earlier. She pressed hers closer against his skin, redirecting his attention.

“I see now,” he murmured, and there was something like respect in his eyes. “They say not to underestimate you, and yet everyone still falls for it. I had not thought myself as susceptible and yet.”

“And yet,” Meg echoed dryly, tossing her hair out of her face. “I have no reason to kill you, if you agree to stop hunting down the Golden Boy.”

He eyed her silently, judging. She cut into his skin, leaving a thin trail of blood to drop down his throat.

“Who hired you?” she inquired softly. Vagabond remained silent. “Who is after the Fakes? Or is it just their frontman?”

Vagabond stared at her, tilting his head.

“He’s important to you,” he concluded, sounding surprised. Meg grit her teeth.

“Answer me!” she snapped, dragging a second line up to his jaw and pressing the tip of her knife into his jugular. “Is it a bounty? It can’t be, I’d have caught wind of that before. So they hired you, specifically. Who?”

Vagabond leaned his head back and laughed. Meg blinked, surprised. Then she snarled, raising her hand with the knife, intending to stab him, letting him know how serious she was-

A hand clamped down around her wrist, and she struggled, trying to wind out of his hold but the Vagabond was stronger and wrestled her knife from her. Furious, Meg kneed him between the legs, her kneecap hitting something hard- protective gear, but even that could only help so much, and she rammed it in as hard as she could. The Vagabond curled forward instinctively, and Meg tugged on the hilt, prying his fingers open.

Vagabond grunted and hurled the knife far away.

Meg cursed, retreating several steps because in a straight up fist fight, the other assassin had the advantage. Especially with her injured - the slash across her back was a low ache, blood dripping into her skirt sluggishly. She circled around, trying to get closer to her knife-

Vagabond lunged, and she dodged, realizing too late that he was going for his own knife.

Swearing loudly, Meg dashed sideways, grabbing her knife and looking up. She was kneeling on the ground, while Vagabond stood slowly, his serrated blade at the ready. He gave her a hard stare, eyes flinty. Meg took a deep breath, heart racing. Gradually, she lifted her knife from the floor, and Vagabond shifted on his feet, ready to rush her.

Not good. Not good at all.

She licked her lips nervously. She needed to get back to Gavin as soon as possible. She needed to get away. With his attention on her knife-hand, she used her free hand to pull her favourite pistol from the thigh holster. In one quick movement, she slipped the knife into the holster instead, standing up smoothly and clicking off the safety.

The Vagabond froze.

“This isn’t over,” Meg threatened, aiming at his head steadily. “You don’t get to kill him. Over my dead body.”

Carefully, she stepped back, heart hammering in her throat, to the mouth of the alley. Vagabond watched her silently.

“Leave my boyfriend alone,” she spat, before she vanished around the corner and _ran_.

 

* * *

 

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

She should have shot him.

Meg cursed herself as she bandaged herself up. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it had been bleeding heavily, and her top was in ruins. She was lucky the hidden sheath had caught the knife when it had, or else she might have gotten a nastier wound.

The Vagabond was no joke.

Meg bit her lip, staring into the bathroom mirror. The adrenaline slowly left her system, and she felt a little woozy. Too many revelations in one day, and it wasn’t over yet. Maybe letting the Vagabond leave alive wasn’t the best choice she’d made today. But she’d been in shock. Probably still was, she thought to herself, lips twitching upwards.

Gavin was the Golden Boy. Her Gavino, her caring, clumsy asshole of a boyfriend-

She’d gotten a text from Mariel while she’d been running after the Vagabond. Her research had turned up the same, and it was all the confirmation she needed to chase away the last of her doubt. Gavin was a Fake, was the frontman, and he hadn’t told her. At least that explained why she had yet to meet any of his friends. She hadn’t wanted to press, afraid he’d want to meet hers in turn. Considering that most of them were more acquaintances than friends, except for Mariel and Tyler, who were- well.

Gavin had been lying to her. It stung unexpectedly. Like a betrayal of trust - Meg had always firmly insisted on the importance of trust, and Gavin had seemed to be of the same cloth. How much of their relationship was real? She didn’t think that all of it was faked, but...

In all fairness, she hadn’t told him about Dollface either. Meg wasn’t sure if she wanted to be fair just yet.

She considered her phone. She’d shot off a quick _Miss you_ the moment she got home, and Gavin had replied with a heart emoji. It was enough of a sign that he’d made it to Michael safely - Michael Jones, _Mogar_ Jones, and how had she missed that? His gamertag was MJones, and yes, sure, Jones was a common surname, but still!

Her fingers tingled, the urge to send Gavin another message strong.

But a _We need to talk_ might spook him - she knew Gavin well enough, he’d stay over at Michael’s, if he thought they could avoid a fight until she went off to her job to New York, and chances were pretty even if his things would still be here once she returned. Gavin _hated_ break-ups. He’d be in the wind if he so much as suspected anything.

With the Vagabond hunting him, that outcome had to be avoided at all costs.

 _Can’t wait for you to come home <3_ she wrote instead, hesitating for a long moment before she hit send. It wasn’t misleading, exactly, even if she was still a little furious. Worry gnawed at her, and she stared at herself in the mirror, before shaking her head and splashing cold water in her face.

Then she settled in to wait, scrolling through the files Mariel had sent her.

 

* * *

 

Gavin returned in the late afternoon.

Meg had gotten fed up with waiting for him, worry a constant companion. Instead, she’d went through their home, checking on her weapon stashes. Then she went through more thoroughly, searching for bugs and the like. While she didn’t find any hidden cameras or mics, she did stumble across what must be Gavin’s backup gun and ammo. A pair of golden sunglasses was sitting on top, and Meg swallowed, remembering them from the photo.

She gently traced the rim of the glasses before shaking her head and slamming the drawer shut.

Still, she couldn’t really focus on anything, spending most of the wait pacing through their shared apartment, trying to see it through Gavin’s eyes. What was this life they build together on mutual trust and lies? Meg couldn’t find the answer in the dollar store painting on the wall, but she might as well try.

When the key turned and the front door opened, Meg sat up on the couch, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Honey, I’m home,” Gavin called out jokingly. She bit her lip.

“Welcome home, boy,” she shot back, throat closing up.

Gavin paused in the door, frowning at her.

“Meg?” he asked hesitantly, stepping into the room carefully. “What’s wrong, girl?”

“We need to talk, Gavino,” Meg said tightly, giving him a humourless smile. Immediately, his face shut down, expression blanking into something resembling vague concern. Meg swallowed, watching as his walls went up.

“What about?” he asked nervously, fidgeting with the keys he still held in his hand.

“About extracurricular activities,” Meg said, aiming for a light tone of voice and failing miserably. “Like crime and such.”

Gavin flinched barely noticeably. Then he purposefully scrunched up his face, and Meg had to question again how much of this was real. Gavin was a surprisingly good actor.

“I don’t know what you mean?” he queried, taking a hesitant step closer. But not, she noticed, around the couch, keeping the piece of furniture firmly between them. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

“Is something wrong,” she echoed disbelievingly, standing up and dragging a hand through her hair. “I can’t fucking believe you, Gavino. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

She paced the length of the couch, up and down. Gavin watched her warily.

“What are you talking about, love?”

“I’m talking about your damn stalker!” Meg shouted, whirling around to face him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Meg-” Gavin started, reaching out for her, but stopping short. “Look, I’m not sure what exactly is going on. Yes, I think someone might be following me. I don’t know why, or anything. I didn’t want to worry you-”

“Of course I’m worried!” Meg shot back, throwing her hands up in the air. “There’s an assassin out for your blood-”

“It’s not necessarily an assassin, Meg, it might turn out to be nothing-”

“Nothing!? So the Vagabond is totally _nothing_ , right-”

“Can you stop shouting for a moment, really, I get that you’re a little worried-”

“Be _cause_ the fucking _Vagabond_ is after your ass!”

“Look, Meg, I don’t know what I did to piss him off, okay, you need to-”

“What you did?” Meg bit out sharply, glaring at him. “Or what the Fakes did?”

Gavin stilled, eyeing her closely. “What are you on a-”

“Don’t lie to me, Free,” she spat, clenching her hands into fists. “Vagabond told me, Mr. _Golden Boy_.”

“He told- Meg! You were talking to the Vagabond?!” Gavin exclaimed in shock, eyes wide. He took a step towards her, and she took a step back.

“With a knife to his throat, I’m not a fucking idiot, Gav!” she exploded, turning away from him to pace across their living room. When she whirled back around, Gavin had a peculiar look on his face, expression closing off.

“I didn’t realize you were that skilled with a knife,” he said slowly, watching her carefully. Meg’s heart skipped a beat. Shit.

In her concern over Gavin’s situation, she kinda forgot to lead with her own reveal.

“I am fucking fantastic with knives, thank you,” she replied softly, walking back over to him. The way he eyed her suspiciously made her heart drop. “I- I’m a gun for hire. People know me as Dollface.”

“Dollface,” Gavin echoed flatly, face blank. Meg lifted a hand to touch him, but dropped it when he flinched back. “The Doll with a Gun. Right.”

“Gav-” she started, but he stepped away from her, fingers dragging through his dyed blond hair. “Look-”

“What is it you want from me, Meg?” he interrupted her, staring at the ground as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Was this like, what. A facade, a trick? You’re accusing me of being a criminal, working for this… this gang and. What. What do you _want_ , Dollface?”

“I want you to stop fucking lying to me for a second, asshole!” Meg yelled, waving her hands. “Because for some godforsaken reason I’m in love with you, Gavino, but now the Vagabond is after you with his fucking impossible success rate, and I’m not ready to lose you!”

A beat of deafening silence. Gavin stared at her incredulously as Meg panted, trying to get her breath back.

“Wait- you’re not mad at me for not telling you about my other job?” Gavin queried cautiously, holding out a hand to her. Meg took it with a huff, squeezing tightly.

“Of course not, you dumbass. I get it. Didn’t tell you about Dollface either, or did I?” Meg refuted, shoulders slumping. “We both messed up, boy. But your survival is kinda more important, you know?”

Gavin paused, hesitating a moment too long for her peace of mind. Meg narrowed her eyes.

“...right,” he finally agreed with a slow nod, pulling her closer. She went with it, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “Right.”

“Right,” Meg echoed, smiling a little. “Let’s start over?”

“Alright,” Gavin repeated, sounding determined. Meg lifted her head up to look at him. “Hi. I’m Gavin, your boyfriend. Sometimes I’m a photographer, and sometimes I’m the frontman for the Fake AH Crew.” He paused, giving her a half-hearted grin. “I honestly have no idea why Fake AH, you have to ask Geoff some time.”

Meg laughed, shaking her head and lightly swatting at Gavin.

“I meant the conversation, idiot, but sure.” She took a deep breath, before looking up at him from under her lashes. “Hi, I’m Meg. Hopefully still your girlfriend. Otherwise known for my assassination skills or my boudoir shoots.”

“Both of those are very hot,” Gavin returned honestly, cheeks a little red. “Bloody hell, girl, we need to arrange an assassin-themed shoot for you.”

Meg laughed, a little helplessly.

“Sure. After we got rid of this little problem of yours.” She paused, leaning back a little. “Priorities, Gav.”

“Right.” He swallowed, eyes darting away from hers. “So. The Vagabond. Bloody hell.”

He dropped his arms from around her and stepped back, dragging a palm across his face. Meg watched him carefully, crossing her arms loosely over her stomach.

“I take it you hadn’t identified him yet,” she said blankly, and Gavin gave her a sharp nod.

“I knew something was off, but the bastard is bloody good at his job. I asked Michael for help, we were setting up an ambush.” He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. “I guess you interfered?”

“Look, all I knew was that someone dangerous was following my boyfriend,” Meg shot back defensively, pressing her lips into a thin line. “So I ran after you to make sure you were alright, okay? Didn’t know you could defend yourself.”

Gavin deflated with a sigh, one corner of his mouth ticking up into a crooked smile.

“Sorry, girl. It’s just been a frustrating day,” he explained, rubbing his eye. “The lads were teasing me when no one showed up, but I was sure someone had been following me at some point.”

“It’s okay, boy,” Meg assured him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.”

Gavin leaned into the touch, smiling tiredly. Then he composed himself, expression growing grim and shoulders straightening.

“You said you talked to him?” he inquired brusquely, and Meg dropped her hand, nodding.

“I confronted him in an alley. He implied that I must work for your crew, and he had a photo of you and Mogar. It’s when it finally clicked for me.” Meg shrugged one shoulder, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “We fought for a bit. I was lucky - I got the drop on him twice.”

“Are you hurt?” Gavin demanded, grabbing her by the arms as worry flickered across his face. “Shit, I hadn’t really thought- I should have asked- Meg, are you alright?”

“Just some bruises and a scratch,” she waved him off, smiling softly. “I’m fine, boy.”

“You’re sure?” he asked skeptically, mustering her from head to toe. “That sounded like a ‘I’ll bleed to my death before admitting I’m hurt’ kinda fine.”

“Have much experience with those?” she snarked, grinning playfully. She lifted a hand and rested the palm on his chest, right above his heart. “Promise I’m not gonna bleed out. You can even help change the bandage later.”

He squinted at her, like he didn’t quite believe her, but let it go for now.

“What did the Vagabond tell you? Do you know who hired him?”

Meg shook her head. “I kept asking, but he stayed silent on that. Pretty sure he’s specifically after you, though. And I’d give it an eighty percent chance it’s crew-related business.” She paused, giving him a stern look. “Unless you make it a hobby to piss off criminals?”

Gavin laughed nervously. “Not really, no. Not on purpose. I’m the one dealing with allies and enemies face-to-face though, I could’ve pissed any of them off easily. It makes sense they’d come after me first, if they want to send a message to the rest of the crew.”

Meg’s mouth tightened into a frown.

“Well, that’s not very helpful in tracking down the who,” she muttered, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “We should head down to see Mariel - she’s my contact for illegal jobs, too. See if there’s anything in the grapevine.”

Gavin nodded thoughtfully. He gave her a considering look.

“I have some resources, too. Some favours I could call in.” He paused before continuing delicately. “You weren’t offered this job…?”

Meg shook her head. “No. Whoever’s out for your blood, they went straight for the Vagabond. No bounty that I know of.”

Gavin blew out a stream of air in frustration.

“Well, then,” he said, trying for a light tone. “At least we know they’re serious about it?”

Meg snorted, swatting his shoulder.

“Let’s go see Mariel. See what we can figure out before he shows up again.” She frowned, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Pretty sure he knows which building you live in. Damn.”

Gavin’s face darkened. He touched her shoulder, brushing her jaw tenderly.

“Let’s not waste any time, then.”

 

* * *

 

Mariel eyed them in disgust when Meg entered her office with Gavin in tow.

“Really?” she asked Meg, blithely ignoring Gavin lurking behind her. Meg smiled tightly, raising her hands in surrender.

“To be fair, we have a bit of a situation,” she said, motioning Gavin forward. “Gavin, you remember Mariel? Mariel, Gavin.”

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Mariel said dryly as she shook Gavin’s hand. She shot Meg a sharp look. “What situation?”

“Someone’s mad enough at me, they decided to sic the Vagabond on me.” Gavin shrugged, grinning crookedly.

“We were hoping you could help us find out who,” Meg explained earnestly.

“Whoa, slow down,” Mariel ordered, looking at her in askance. “The Vagabond?”

Meg shrugged one shoulder, smiling self-deprecatingly.

“I caught him trailing Gavin. It’s how I got confirmation of what your research turned up.”

“Great work, that, by the way,” Gavin interjecting, putting on his most charming smile. “If we have time later, I’d love to know how you managed that. Patch the holes, et cetera.”

Mariel leaned back in her chair, mustering them intently. She glanced toward Meg, then her gaze settled on him.

“Maybe,” she said evasively. She turned her attention back to Meg, brows furrowing. “Are you sure you want to tangle with the Vagabond?”

“I kinda already did,” Meg replied hesitantly, smile fading. “Mariel, please. I don’t- Gavin is important to me.”

He reached out for her, squeezing her hand. Meg turned to look at him with a watery smile. Mariel stared at them for a long moment, before she sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Alright, alright, geez.” Mariel rubbed her palm over her face. Then she straightened, putting on a professional expression. “You say you’ve met him? Any insight into his skill level?”

“Sadly not nearly as exaggerated as I’d like,” Meg offered, giving her a crooked smile. “We fought for a bit. He underestimated me, I was off my game due to... circumstances. All told, we were pretty even.” She shrugged, a little helplessly. “He’s got mass on me, but I have the speed advantage. In a straight-up spar?” Meg bit her lip. “It’s a coin toss.”

Silence as they all mulled that over. Gavin wrapped an arm around Meg’s waist.

“We need to come up with a plan, and quick,” he said, frowning. “The Vagabond knows the building we live in, it’s only a matter of time until he figures out which apartment.”

“Some kind of ambush, then, to give you the advantage,” Mariel mused, tapping her fingers against the table. Then she snorted. “Sit down, you two. You’re gonna give me a crick in the neck.”

“We live to serve,” Meg joked as she sat in the chair. She didn’t let go of Gavin’s hand. “If we get the drop on him, I could probably kill him. I’m not sure how well we’d fare once the surprise wears off.”

Mariel grimaced. “If you can swing it, it’d be better to leave him alive. His agent is one hell of a badass. Rumour has it she’s actually his protegée.”

“Yeah, let’s try to avoid a revenge spiral,” Meg agreed. She narrowed her eyes. “I wonder if we can use the same argument with him, too? I did threaten him during our little confrontation…”

“Probably not if he wants his reputation intact,” Mariel disagreed, staring at her blank screen. “It’s just a job after all. Nothing personal. We need more than that.”

“We need some sort of incentive to make him back off,” Gavin continued the thought. He frowned. “Blackmail?”

Mariel shrugged. “I can see what I can find, but we don’t have enough time to really dig into his background. The Vagabond’s one hell of an elusive bastard.”

“A counter offer,” Meg realized, then frowned. “He won’t go for being paid double, it’s bad for his reputation. It’d help if we knew _who_ employed him.”

“Huh.” Gavin hummed. Then he caught Mariel’s eyes. “Do you think you could discover that?”

“I can certainly try,” she replied, sounding bemused. “Probably, given enough time and leads. Why?”

“I have an idea.” A grin spread across his face. “And I’m feeling lucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention last chapter, updates will be every Thursday! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg has made her choice. But does she stand a chance against the Vagabond and the people who hired him?

The door clicked open quietly. A pause, then it was slowly pushed open. A dark shadow slipped in, covered in black from head to toe, except for the bands of blue and white on the sleeves. Music filtered in from the living room, the menu screen of a paused game flashing on the TV.

The figure stopped in the doorway, taking in the room. Empty, but for one person.

The Golden Boy leaned over the couch, back turned to the intruder. He was frowning down at his phone, thumb swiping furiously across the screen. His lavender shirt was left untucked, but it didn’t do much to hide his butt in the tight jeans with the way he bent forward. The Vagabond watched for a long moment before quietly sneaking up on his target, utterly preoccupied fiddling with his phone. The mercenary pulled out his gun, aiming it at his target’s back.

Too easy.

Gavin ducked and rolled forward, over the back of the couch. The Vagabond bit out a muffled curse, stepping forward and adjusting his aim as he went. In the same moment, Gavin lifted his own gun and trained it on the infamous assassin, lips pulling into a wild grin.

“Why, hello there, sugar,” he drawled. The Vagabond stared at him for a long moment. Then his eyes flickered to the phone screen, displaying the hall security feed.

“Seems we are at an impasse,” he offered, voice deep and gravelly.

“Not quite,” Meg disagreed from behind him. The Vagabond stiffened as she pushed the barrel of her own gun between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you drop your gun?”

Gavin smirked at him as he sat up, gun leveled directly between his eyes. Vagabond mustered him quietly, before slowly lifting his hand and holding the gun out carefully. Meg nodded to Gavin, who leaned forward to grab the gun, tugging his own gun away in the waistband of his jeans. He turned the safety on, unloaded the mag and pulled the slide back for good measure. The bullet clattered to the floor, and Gavin let the other parts drop onto the couch cushions next to him, holding up his empty hands as he held the Vagabond’s sharp gaze.

“See,” Meg said politely as she eased off her own gun just a little. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Gavin stood up and left for the kitchen, returning with a solid metal chair and a pair of handcuffs. The Vagabond’s gaze trailed after him and then lingered on the cuffs.

“Have a seat, Mr. Vagabond,” Gavin suggested with a sharp smile. The mercenary turned to look over his shoulder at her, and she motioned him forward with her gun and an equally bright smile. Meg stayed in front of him, gun trained on his chest from a safe distance while Gavin cuffed his hands to the chair.

“Well then,” Meg spoke up briskly, finally lowering her gun. Vagabond eyed her warily. “Let’s talk like civilized people, shall we?”

There was a flash of recognition in blue eyes, before it was buried behind icy blankness. Meg cocked her head. She’d foregone a mask this time - surely by now his research had turned up her real name.

She exchanged a look with Gavin, who had pulled on his golden sunglasses. He nodded at her. They started circling around their bound guest, Meg now at his back and Gavin in front. Vagabond followed her with his eyes until she vanished from his line of sight, gaze flicking to Gavin instead. The blond spread his hands, eyes hidden behind the golden shades.

“Cards on the table,” he suggested. “You’ve been hired to kill me. I rather object to my demise, and so does Dollface. I’d like to find a compromise.”

“Killing me would be easiest,” Vagabond pointed out drily, a glint of calculation in his eyes.

“That can be arranged,” Meg said darkly, dropping her hands on his shoulders. He flinched almost imperceptibly. “However, it does not solve our problem. Your employer could easily hire someone else, after all.”

“You could have shot me last time,” Vagabond mentioned almost absently, but his gaze drifted to Gavin to take in his expression. Baiting. “And yet you let me live. Strange, considering you profess to want my target to stay alive.”

“I do,” she replied stiffly, nails digging into his shoulders. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax.

“A show of good faith,” Gavin interrupted smoothly. “If possible, we would like all parties of this negotiation to make it out of this alive and unharmed. Will you listen to our offer, Mr. Vagabond?”

“It’s not like you’re giving me much choice,” the Vagabond deadpanned, tugging on the cuffs in emphasis.

“A precaution, that’s all,” Gavin assured, flapping his hand airily. “Can’t have any of the participants suddenly die in the middle of our discussion, now, can we?” He dragged over the wooden armchair, seating himself across the Vagabond. “Now then. I want the name of your employer.”

Vagabond shot him an odd look.

“Aren’t you supposed to have a silver tongue?” he asked incredulously, tilting his head. “What sort of opening gambit is _that_?”

“An honest one,” Gavin rebuked with a small grin, adjusting his sunglasses. He leaned forward conspiratorially, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him. “You see, it’s such a small thing in the grand scheme of things. I don’t need you dead, I don’t need anything else from you, but one little name.”

The Vagabond remained silent. Meg leaned forward, letting her hands glide firmly over his chest.

“There’s always torture, of course,” she murmured huskily, her mouth close to his ear, nearly brushing the mask. “I’m sure you’d be a _hard_ one-” She dragged the nails of one hand up to his shoulder, letting them rest sharply at the crook of his throat. “-to crack, but we could have so much _fun._ ”

Now Gavin leaned forward, resting his hands on the Vagabond’s knees, spreading his legs a little.

“Naturally, we would prefer a more _pleasurable_ path,” he purred, letting his hands slide halfway up the Vagabond’s thighs. “We _did_ catch ourselves a high-profile mercenary, after all. It’d be a shame to part on bad terms.” His fingers traced along the inseam as he withdrew his hands. “You are, however, essentially at our _mercy_.”

“We would make sure to properly _reward_ you for the information, of course,” Meg breathed, her hand slipping under his leather jacket. Her thumb missed his nipple by half an inch. “Make it worth your while.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Vagabond spoke up, sounding bemused.

“Is it working?” Gavin asked promptly, batting his lashes at him. Vagabond snorted. Gavin shrugged, demeanour changing back to insouciant Golden Boy in the blink of an eye. “Then, no.”

“Right,” he said, shaking his head. Meg withdrew her hands with a sigh.

“Shame,” she lamented, “Everything would be so much easier if we could just solve it by having sex.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Vagabond shot back, surprising Meg into letting out a sharp bark of laughter.

“Maybe you’re just that tempting,” she drawled. He leaned back in the chair, craning his neck to look at her. Meg arched an eyebrow, drawing a knife and twirling it over her knuckles showily. He eyed the weapon for a long moment before catching her eyes.

“Kinky,” he drawled. Gavin huffed a laugh, quickly trying to conceal it as a cough. Vagabond turned his attention back to him. “I cannot just give you his name. I do have some professional pride.”

 _His_ name. A slip, or an offer? She shot Gavin a quick look, who hummed, eyeing the Vagabond contemplatively. Gavin leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers.

“An alleged one hundred percent success rate. So we heard,” Meg agreed, stepping around to stand to the Vagabond’s side where he could more easily see her. “I assume you want that reputation to remain intact?”

Vagabond nodded shortly, gaze flickering between her and Gavin.

“We have several suggestions to make, I’m sure we can come to an agreeable counter-offer,” Gavin started, looking at him over the top of his glasses. “However, you have us at a disadvantage.”

“Disarmed, chained and outnumbered,” the Vagabond listed, cocking his head curiously. “And yet you believe me at advantage? I’m flattered.”

Meg stepped forward, flicking the knife around with a twirl. Then she let the tip rest just under his jawline, digging into the edge of his mask. Vagabond tilted his head back, eyeing her sharply.

“Your mask,” she pointed out, letting the knife trace along his jaw. “We want to see your face. Call it insurance.”

“You want me to reveal my identity,” he growled darkly, piercing blue gaze holding hers. “No deal.”

“I doubt we can deduce your identity just by seeing your face,” Gavin interjected lightly, crossing his arms. “No photos. You get the mask back once we’re done here.”

Meg took a step back, flipping the knife around again.

“You come after my boyfriend again,” she added casually, icily, “We track you down. Reveal your name to your enemies, the police, everyone.”

“Are you threatening me?” Vagabond inquired in a low voice. Meg picked at her nails with the knife, assuming a bored mien.

“No. I’m leveling the playing field.” She shot him a piercing look over her nails.

“And why would I agree to this?” He held her gaze, and even tied to a chair he cut an imposing figure. “I gain nothing from that.”

“You know where we live. It’s not a leap from there to find our names.” She tapped her temple. “It’s why I’ve foregone my mask. But you recognized me. I saw your surprise. You know who we are.”

She held his gaze, letting the question linger between them. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Meg Turney.” He turned to look at her boyfriend. “Gavin Free.”

Gavin pressed his lips into a thin, mirthless smile. Vagabond stared at them contemplatively. Then he caught Meg’s eyes.

“You want me to give up that advantage, at risk of putting myself in danger later.” He cocked his head, blue eyes flitting to Gavin and then back to Meg. “That’s no incentive.”

Meg and Gavin exchanged a quick look. Gavin nodded, and Meg pressed her lips into a thin line.

“A guarantee that we will not kill you tonight, whether we reach a compromise or not,” Meg offered, voice tight. “Whatever else happens, we will all walk away from here unharmed.”

The Vagabond observed them quietly, and Meg wished she knew what he was thinking. Finally, he spoke up.

“Very well. You’ve made your point.” He thrust his chin forward. “Unmask me if you will.”

Meg nodded, moving forward to cup his face. Digging her nails under the mask, she hesitated, catching his eyes. He was watching her calmly. Narrowing her eyes, she carefully rolled the edge over, dragging the mask up and off his head.

Then she stepped back, eyes not leaving his.

Gavin sucked in a breath through his teeth. Meg flung the mask onto the couch, next to the discarded gun, then turned to muster the Vagabond. Aside from the black smudges around his eyes, he looked almost exactly like...

“The temp tech guy,” Gavin said, surprised. “Well. That puts a crink into that plan.”

The Vagabond blinked slowly, mouth turning down into a frown.

“What plan?” he inquired coolly.

“Asking you out,” Meg explained absently, taking in the details of his face. “That would have been a night full of surprises.” Her expression darkened. “You were there to watch Gavin. We mistook your interest.”

The Vagabond blinked, surprise flitting across his face before it smoothed into a blank expression.

“Well,” he mused drily, shrugging his shoulders as much as he could with his hands cuffed to the chair. The metal tinged noisily. “Shame. That would have been fun.”

“Before or after you murdered Gavin?” Meg drawled, dropping the knife on the couch table. Vagabond eyed her up and down as she sat down on the armrest of Gavin’s chair.

“Both,” he concluded with a sly grin. Gavin hummed.

“Great way to find out my girlfriend’s a renowned assassin,” he mused, tapping his chin. Vagabond gave him a doubtful look.

“You honestly didn’t know?”

“Not a clue,” Gavin admitted freely, clasping his knee with both hands. He eyed the Vagabond thoughtfully. “We owe you for that, I guess.”

“You’ve got a weird way of paying me back,” Vagabond quipped, mouth curving up. He tugged on the handcuffs, the chain clinking against the chair.

“Maybe I just like seeing you all tied up,” Gavin shot back, grinning widely. Vagabond snorted, but he seemed to relax.

“Alright, back to the topic on hand. I want Gavin alive, preferably without having to kill you,” Meg said, ticking the points off on her hand. “You want out of here alive and with your reputation intact, yes?”

Vagabond leaned back in his chair and smirked. “I’m still curious to see how you think you can pull off both.”

Meg shrugged. “Simple. You tell me who hired you and I go kill them. Then you have no reason to kill Gavin, and no one will fault you for breaking a contract once your employer is dead.”

“Sounds easy enough, in theory,” Vagabond drawled, cocking his head. “What makes you think you could kill them?”

“It’s one of the gangs in or around the city, innit?” Gavin chimed in. “Either someone my crew pissed off or someone objecting to our expansion. I doubt it’s the latter because we haven’t tangled with any of the big names lately.”

“And what if it was? If it’s someone like the Corpirate?” Vagabond’s tone grew low and secretive, dangerous. “Do you think you could just off him, too?”

Gavin pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and stared back earnestly.

“We’d need to tell the crew and dismantle his empire earlier than expected. It might take a couple months, but it’s doable.”

Vagabond's eyebrows flew up, studying him intently. “Ambitious.”

“And obviously not the case so let’s stop wasting time,” Meg snapped, pacing between Vagabond and Gavin.

“How are you sure it’s not?” Vagabond asked drily.

“Because of the way you painted that scenario to scare us off.” Meg stopped and whirled to face him. “Besides, you’re still negotiating. I doubt you’d be willing to let someone of that calibre wait for months while we get our shit together. No, you wouldn't be listening if you didn’t believe we stood a chance to wrap this up quickly and quietly.”

Vagabond shrugged one shoulder. “Fair point. I have conditions.”

“Of course,” Gavin interjected smoothly, casting her a sidelong glance. Meg took a deep breath, focussing on unclenching her fists.

“You bring me back the physical contract and delete their files. There cannot be any hint of my involvement.”

“Sounds fair,” Gavin agreed. “We pay out your contract and as an incentive, you get a third of their funds once we get our hands on them.”

Vagabond nodded slowly, before glancing at Meg. “You have ten days to get rid of them, and I’ll count the contract as void.”

“Understood.” Meg nodded sharply. “My manager will contact yours once it’s done.”

“Unacceptable,” Vagabond said shortly. His eyes narrowed. “No, I will stay with my target for the duration. Should you fail I will not risk Free fleeing.”

“No.” Meg crossed her arms and stared him down.

“Turney-” Gavin started, and Meg’s head swivelled around to glare at him. “It’s fine-”

“It’s not fine!” she snapped, whirling around to face him properly, her hands dropping to her sides. “If you think for one moment I’m handing you over to _someone out to kill you-_ ”

“Girl, I can take care of myself, girl, don’t worry-”

“I’m flying to New York by the end of the week, boy, in case you’ve forgotten-”

“Then we get it done by-”

“There’s no way-”

“So you call the shoot off, call in sick-”

“I _can’t_.”

Gavin opened his mouth, but stopped short, eyeing her thoughtfully.

“Wait.” His eyes widened. “New York is a _job_ job?”

“How the hell did you think I get hired? Models travel a lot, it’s easy to pick up some contracts in big cities.” Meg brushed her hair back and sighed. “It’s a semi-regular client, I can’t just back out last minute. Not on a job like this.”

Gavin chewed on his lip, staring off into the distance. “Is there a photoshoot involved?”

“What?” Meg stared at him, then shook her head. “Yeah, but that’s not the problem. Gavino, there’s no way I can take care of this in less than four days and hop on my plane to New York.”

“No, yeah.” Gavin glanced from her to the Vagabond, who was watching them quietly. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure how this works, girl. Can you send someone in your stead?”

“With this one, yeah, but where are we going to get an assassin we can tru-” She followed his gaze and stared at the Vagabond’s bemused expression. “No, boy. Gavin, no way-”

“Wanna follow me to New York?” Gavin asked him, speaking over her protests.

“Sounds like fun,” the Vagabond mused and Meg stared at him, aghast. “I’m up for it.” He glanced at Meg. “It’d give you easily another week of plausible delay, if I have to ‘chase’ Free all the way to New York.”

Meg stared first at him, then at Gavin in pure disbelief. Finally she threw up her hands.

“Fine! Go hang out with dangerous mercs far away from me, that sounds like the best plan ever.”

“Turney-” Gavin’s face softened and he pulled her close, cupping her cheek. “Hey, girl. It’ll be fine. I’ll text you all day and then you can facetime me whenever you have a moment, yeah? Nothing will happen to me.”

“You have to check in daily,” Meg insisted, grabbing his arms and clinging desperately. “I need to know you’re okay, boy. That when all of this is over, I can come home to you.”

“I will, girl,” Gavin promised quietly, leaning in for a quick kiss. Then he glanced over her shoulder. “Will you give us a name, now?”

“Martin Madrazo,” Vagabond replied promptly. He tugged on the handcuffs again. “We met at his ranch. If that’s all…?”

“Madrazo,” Gavin muttered, looking thoughtful. “He’s a small businessman. I’ll call my crew and figure out what we have on him. I need to tell Geoff about my upcoming trip anyway.”

Meg reached out and squeezed his hand quickly. “I can take things from here.”

He gave her a half-hearted smile before vanishing into their bedroom, closing the door behind him. Meg squared her shoulders and picked up the key for the cuffs. Turning it over in her hands, she knelt down beside the chair and unlocked the handcuffs quickly. While he was rubbing his wrists and getting the circulation flowing, Meg stood up and walked in front of him. Looking up as her shadow fell over him, the Vagabond stared at her blankly. She leaned into his space, dropping her hands onto his shoulders.

“Promise me,” she hissed, nails digging into his shoulder. “Promise to bring him back to me whole and safe.”

The Vagabond mustered her for a long moment, blue eyes flicking from side to side.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” he realized, blinking slowly. Meg grit her teeth.

“Yes. And if you so much as touch a hair on his head before you’re back in LS-”

“Okay.” His lips quirked up into a crooked smile. “Easy, Dollface. I swear he will come to no harm under my watch, as long as you hold up your end of the deal.”

Meg caught his gaze, holding it for a long time, before she nodded.

“I will hold you to that.”

 

* * *

 

It turned out that the Fakes had indeed a couple run-ins with Madrazo and his cartel. He ran a handful of businesses strewn all over Los Santos, and some of those were in the Fakes’ territory. They didn’t take too well to Madrazo’s thugs patrolling around his shops, and Madrazo didn’t like being told to back off or compromise. Despite making a decent sum with his businesses, he didn’t have much power within the city and not enough leverage to hold his position. Grudgingly, he agreed to a deal.

Not one he meant to hold up, it seemed.

Gavin decided not to tell his crew, not quite yet, because he didn’t want to, quote, _worry them over nothing_. Meg wasn’t sure what he told them about why he’s flying to New York, but the crew seemed to have something to say about it, going by how often Gavin’s phone chirped with new messages. After two hours of that godawful sound, Vagabond snapped and stole his phone.

“Wha- no!” Gavin squawked in protest, leaning over the back of the couch and grabbing futilely for it. “Gimme back!”

Vagabond ignored him, tapping through the settings and turning off all sound alerts. Then he tossed it at Gavin’s chest, who scrambled to catch it.

“Oh God, thank you,” Meg groaned, rubbing her temples. She closed the laptop in her lap and stretched. “I was about to throw it out the window.”

Gavin pouted. “At least let me put it on vibrate.”

“No,” Meg said at the same time as Vagabond. She glanced up and caught his eyes. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a pleased grin.

That was another thing. Vagabond had decided to hang around until the flight to make sure they didn’t hatch any plans to hide Gavin from him. It should have been tense, a constant reminder of the danger they were in… Instead, Meg found herself laughing at his dry humour. Saw Gavin slowly relax, skipping his usual stranger shyness. Apparently, it was less awkward getting to know your would-be murderer than a perfectly harmless civilian. Go figure.

She couldn’t really fault him. After seeing Vagabond run around in dad-jeans and loose shirts that hit his fit physique and made him look like a dork, she had trouble viewing him as a threat, too.

Madrazo, on the other hand, she took very seriously. If the man went to the trouble to hire the best of the best just to get rid of her boyfriend, she couldn’t take any chances. He needed to die, and with him any evidence that he ever went after Gavin, so that no one would connect him or get it into their head to finish what Madrazo started. Meg was honestly considering just setting his home on fire, if Vagabond didn’t want proof in form of the papers he signed for the job.

“He spends most of his time at his ranch on the outskirts, _La Fuente Blanca_ ,” Gavin filled her in. It helped that he’d researched the guy before. “He likes to keep all his business dealings there, too, in some misguided attempt to impress his rivals. It’s your best bet to find the paper trail.”

“He’ll keep digital copies, too,” Vagabond offered, lying on their couch and sipping from a can of diet coke. “You’ll need to get rid of those.”

“Fine,” Meg huffed, but she knew he was right. She leaned forward until her nose nearly touched the floor, grabbing her feet stretched out before her. “Mariel got back to you with the details for New York?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Meg blinked, glancing up at him from her twisted position. He was watching her closely. “Is that… yoga?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Meg let go and straightened, cracking her neck. “It’s good for staying nimble. You ever try?”

“Uh, no,” he replied hesitantly. He looked contemplative. “Do you think I should?”

Meg shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. Want me to show you some basics?”

Gavin watched them bemusedly, his golden sunglasses slipping down his big nose. Meg stuck his tongue out at him when Vagabond turned his back to her. Gavin just arched a brow, and Meg rolled her eyes, before focussing on nudging Vagabond into position.

He was good about giving them their privacy, though. As she lay in bed, fingers tracing patterns on Gavin’s arm, she wondered what he was thinking. What he thought of them. Vagabond was certainly observant, having excused himself for a walk when he noticed the way she kept brushing up against Gavin and caught Gavin staring at her intently. Or maybe they were less subtle than she liked to think, but she was grateful for him bowing out and giving them their space nevertheless.

“You gotta call me the moment you land in New York, you hear me, boy?” Meg murmured into Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin hummed agreeably, brushing her hair out of her face.

“I will as soon as we get through customs, I promise, girl.” He hesitated, turning to kiss her forehead. “Be careful, yeah? Madrazo might not be a big player, but he isn’t stupid.”

“And prone to overreacting, if he hires the freaking Vagabond just ‘cause he’s pissed at your crew. You must’ve really rubbed him wrong,” Meg teased, eyes crinkling as she smiled up at him. Gavin returned her smile, but it slipped from his face in the next moment to be replaced by a frown.

“Still. It just means he’s not cheap. Who knows who else he’s hired on.” Gavin gnawed on his lip, glancing to the side. “Maybe I should tell Michael. I don’t like you going in on your own, girl.”

“Hey! I’m plenty enough,” Meg protested lightly, but at Gavin’s earnest look she softened. “I’ve done this before, Gavino. I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you, honestly. You’re the one travelling with _the_ Vagabond.”

Gavin snorted, relaxing into the pillows. “After these last couple days? Somehow, I’m not really all that worried about him.”

Meg’s lips twitched.

“He is a bit of a dork,” she admitted. She stared at the door to the bedroom, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… I guess a lot has happened lately, and… I’m not sure what to think.” She paused, turning and searching his eyes. “One thing I know for sure, though. I don’t want to lose you, boy.”

Gavin grabbed her hand and entangled their fingers.

“It’s a lot. I haven’t really processed it, either.” Gavin swallowed, pulling her closer. “It’s not that I don’t doubt your capabilities, love. If you say you can take Madrazo on, I believe you. I just have trouble wrapping my head around it.”

“Guess we haven’t really seen each other in action.” Meg chuckled weakly and squeezed his hand. “A promise, then. No unnecessary risks.”

“No unnecessary risks,” Gavin echoed in agreement. He paused, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Meg held his gaze, watching the emotions flit across his face. Hesitation, concern. Doubts, and love.

“Please take back-up?” he finally blurted out, and his arm tightened around her. “I- I don’t want to lose you, either, girl.”

“Mariel has decent aim with a sniper,” Meg assured him, pressing their foreheads together. “She’ll come with me, if only to make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”

“Not reassuring, Turney,” Gavin laughed. His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled their entwined hands up to kiss her knuckles. “But I trust you.”

“And I trust you to come back to me, Free,” Meg said dryly, buzzing with emotions she couldn’t quite name. “I mean it. Don’t make me go all revenge on the Vagabond.”

“You’d wipe the floor with him,” Gavin replied staunchly, eyes glinting mischievously. Meg laughed.

“Well, don’t make me prove it. Or else,” she threatened, bopping his nose.

“Wouldn’t dare,” he promised fervently. “You’d totally wipe the floor with me, too.”

 

* * *

 

“Turney!” Gavin grinned brightly, waving at her through the screen. “Hi!”

“Hi yourself,” Meg shot back, but couldn’t help her relieved smile. “You find yourself in New York okay, boy?”

“Yeah,” he enthused, turning so she could see the window of his hotel room in the background. “It’s great! We’ve got this really cool hotel, I gotta show you the little shampoo bottles in a second, they’re the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, I swear!”

“I’m glad.” Meg laughed, but it caught in her throat halfway through. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Of course I am,” Gavin replied, but his face softened and his voice lowered as he stared at her through the screen as sincerely as he could. “Girl, stop worrying, girl. I’m fine. Besides, I got Ryan to protect me, don’t I?”

Her brow furrowed, and she frowned at her phone’s screen.

“Who’s Ryan?”

“Oh, right! You weren’t there for that!” Gavin grinned smugly, scrunching up his big nose. “I finally got a name out of him!”

“Out of wh- _wait_. Seriously!?” Meg gaped at the screen. “Wait- is that his real name?”

Gavin shrugged. “No idea. I just insisted that I should have something less obvious to call him in public, so Ryan it is.”

“Right.” Meg turned the name over in her mind. It didn’t sound like something the Vagabond would pick, but the man that slept on their couch the last couple days? The dork who would drink an entire sixpack of diet coke and was a miserable failure at yoga? It kinda suited him, she supposed.

“Ryan’s in the shower right now, but I booked us a table at Le Bernardin. Do you know if he likes seafood? Should I have asked him first?” Gavin started chewing at his lower lip nervously, while Meg’s eyebrows rose higher. “I don’t even know if he has proper evening clothes, why didn’t I ask him first-”

“Gavino,” Meg interrupted him firmly, and his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “Boy, are you _planning a date_?”

Gavin winced, backpedalling quickly. “No, of course not! Just, uh, just a ‘thank you for not killing me’ dinner. Is it too much? Should I cancel?”

“It is _so_ a date, oh my God.” Meg opened and closed her mouth, not quite sure what to say. “Gavin! How could you-”

His eyes widened and panic crossed over his features. “I’m sorry, girl, I’ll cancel at once-”

“- _go on a date without me!_ We made a deal about stuff like this, it’s either both of us-”

“-I don’t know what I was thinking-”

“Oh my God!” Meg exclaimed, and Gavin shut up, eyeing her anxiously. “You have a crush on him!”

“I don’t!” Gavin protested immediately, nearly stumbling over his words.

“Yes, you do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do _not_ ,” Gavin snapped, and Meg fell silent. He paced back and forth, and she watched mutely as the background changed. Finally he groaned, dragging his hand over his face. “Shit.”

“Sorry to break this to you, loverboy, but you kinda do,” Meg told him quietly.

“Maybe,” Gavin admitted, slumping down on the bed. He looked troubled. “Sorta. Just a little bit?”

“Hey, Gavino, it’s fine,” Meg tried to soothe him, but Gavin was already shaking his head.

“It’s really not, you’re right.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “We did talk about this, and we agreed that if we want someone else, it’s a threesome or not happening. Just…”

“It’s not just sex,” Meg agreed quietly. “You like him.”

“Yeah,” Gavin admitted, inhaling shakily. “I love you, Turney, you know that, right?”

“I do. I do, boy,” she assured him, even as her stomach twisted into knots. “Just- don’t forget the big picture, okay? When all of this is over, and you’re back here and safe… then we’ll talk it over, okay?”

“Yeah…” Gavin trailed off, glancing to the side. “No, yeah. You’re right. There’s no rush. And you gotta concentrate on Madrazo first.”

“Yeah,” Meg agreed, giving him a small smile. “So! Tell me about New York, what do you think so far?”

Gavin visibly shook himself and launched into a story of the receptionist and a mixup with the keycards. Meg settled into a chair, throwing in the occasional remark but otherwise letting the rise and fall of his voice soothe her nerves.

 

* * *

 

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Mariel chimed up. Meg rolled her eyes, adjusting her holster.

“It’s a small, out of the way target, we’ve done this like a million times,” Meg complained, tying on the mask, muffling her voice. “Tyler, back me up here.”

“Girl, you know I love you and support you one hundred percent, but I gotta side with Mariel here,” Tyler said, sounding vaguely apologetic.

Meg sighed. “Just follow the plan, guys, and everything will be fine.”

“It’s a stupid plan,” Mariel insisted, but Meg could tell from her tone that she was resigned to her fate. “You’re going in alone, in a wide open area, with virtually no back-up.”

“I have you guys,” Meg protested, running across the road and crouching behind a brush. “You count as back-up.”

“Not as far back as we are, no we don’t.” Mariel sighed, tapping her comm. “I’m in position now. Why did you move already?”

“Because you were taking too long,” Meg teased, eyeing the empty road. “Tell me when the coast is clear.”

“The guard is rounding the corner now, stay low until he passes you,” Mariel informed her crisply. “And don’t do anything stupid, Doll, I’ve got you in my sights.”

“Copy that.” Meg fell quiet, peeking between the leaves, waiting for the guard to make his way along the property wall. Through the comm she could hear the faint clicking of keys.

“The cameras are rotating now, you've got about twenty seconds,” Tyler announced in his gruff voice. Meg took a deep breath, shifting on her feet.

“The guard’s out of view in three, two… one. Go, go, go!”

Meg shot forward, leaves rustling behind her as she sprinted straight at the wall. With a leap, she pushed up and barely caught the top with her fingers, scrambling over the wall. Rolling, she made it over just in time, landing on the other side with a heavy thud.

“You’re clear,” Tyler murmured in her ear, and Meg exhaled softly.

There was some shrubbery on the inside of the compound that hid her from view, and Meg stayed low as she made her way around to the house, sticking close to the wall just in case.

“The target’s on the balcony,” Mariel spoke up suddenly. The comm crackled as she held her breath. “I repeat, the target just stepped onto the balcony.”

“Guards?” Meg whispered, ducking behind the low wall separating the garage driveway from the lawn.

“One on the balcony with him, one patrolling below.” Mariel paused, probably adjusting her scope. “There’s no movement in the windows I can make out.”

“No cameras facing the balcony, so you’re clear on that,” Tyler added, followed by the clacking of keys. “There’s only two you need to avoid, one by the garage and one by the front door. The one by the garage is on a constant rotation, but it takes about three seconds to turn the other way. That’s your window.”

“Gotcha,” Meg murmured. “I’m behind the low wall right now, tell me when.”

There was a tense moment where she counted down the seconds, trying to regulate her breathing. Her heart beat fast and loud in her ears, and every rustle of leaves had her twitch, expecting someone to come around the corner and see her.

“Now!” Tyler called out, and Meg darted along the low wall. “Down!”

Meg ducked, nearly slipping on the muddy earth. She pressed her back to the wall, heart hammering away in her chest.

“You’re good. Ten seconds before the next run.”

She braced herself, and on Tyler’s word she made the mad dash for the garage door. It was locked simply, a chain wrapped around the handle and the nearby drainpipe, held together by a padlock. Meg pulled a lockpick out of her breast pocket and got to work. In no time at all, the lock clicked open and she unwound the chain as quietly as she could, flinching every time the metal clang against the pipe.

“I’m going in,” she whispered, and Tyler grunted an affirmative.

“Be careful,” Mariel warned her.

“Aren’t I always?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before opening the door just wide enough for her to slip in. Inside the garage was dark, dim evening light filtering in from the small window above the door. There was a car inside, as well as a workbench cluttered with tools and pieces of wood, and on the opposite side was another door leading into the house. This one wasn’t even locked, and Meg wasted no time sneaking into the house.

“There’s no one downstairs,” she murmured after clearing all the rooms. “Or anything of use. I’m heading up.”

“Madrazo is still on the balcony, but I can’t see the guard anymore. He went inside,” Mariel reported. “The other patrols are going as expected.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Meg promised.

She kept low as she moved up the stairs. The long hallway was empty, but the last door on the right was left ajar. Light filtered through the gap as well as low voices. Meg bit her lip, quietly stepping close to the furniture where the floor had settled and was less likely to creak. The first door on the right was a bathroom, and Meg left it open rather than risking closing it too loudly and alerting the guard. The room to the left lead to a bedroom, probably for guests. The next was the same.

Her patience paid off on the third door to the right, and she quietly closed the door behind her as she slipped into Madrazo’s office. It was neat and ostentatious, several copies of famous paintings on each wall. The dark wood desk and cabinet had golden handles, a series of high quality liquors behind stained glass. Meg shook her head and went straight for the desk.

“I’m in,” she said quietly, turning the computer on. From her breast pocket she pulled a usb stick and plugged it in. Then she glanced at the screen. “It’s password protected.”

“Don’t worry, girl, I’ve got you,” Tyler said followed by the sound of clacking keys. “Go look for the paperwork, this’ll be just a jiffy.”

Meg sat down in the chair and pulled the drawers open. The top one held a bunch of typical office supplies. The second contained files, and she quickly perused the labels. One labelled ‘additional business expenses’ caught her eye, but a quick lookover revealed it to be innocuous. The last drawer was locked, though. With a brief glance at the computer - the program Tyler gave her seemed to be doing its work, several windows flashing over the screen before vanishing again - Meg slid down to the floor and pulled a hairpin from her bun. Making quick work of the lock, she pulled the drawer open and-

Jackpot.

The labels weren’t anything obvious, of course, Madrazo wasn’t that dumb. But Meg’s seen this filing system before working for the mafia, and combined with the fact that these files were locked away while the others weren’t...

It took a bit longer to sort through the files and find the contracts, but by the time the program finished she’d found the correct folder at least. She looked up at the sound, reaching up to unplug the usb and click through the menu hurriedly, leaving the computer to power down while she checked the papers. Vagabond’s was the second to last, and she noticed with growing bemusement that he’d signed with dark red ink, glinting like fresh blood.

 _Twenty says he’s into theatre_ , she thought to herself as she shook her head and grabbed the file, pushing the folder back into the place it belonged.

“Done. Confirm target location,” Meg requested, folding up the contract and stuffing it into her breast pocket with the stick.

“East side of the balcony, sitting in a lawn chair. Guard has yet to reappear, patrol’s still on schedule,” Mariel responded promptly.

“Alright.” Meg took a deep breath. “Keep me updated.”

She slowly edged the door open, glancing down the hallway. The last door was closed now, and Meg frowned, turning her head to check where she came from-

Only to freeze, staring straight at the guard.

Luckily he was facing the other way, hand hovering over his gun as he pulled the ajar door to the bathroom open. Meg used the movement to cover pushing her door open, slipping out and closing it as the guard shut his, shaking his head. Meg held her breath as she pulled a knife out of its sheath. The guard turned his head, staring down the hall to the stairway, hand dropping to his gun. Meg twitched, but forced herself to remain still.

The guard took a step, and Meg followed. Two steps, three, another, and Meg had to take two for each step, trying to catch up.

The floor creaked, and the guard froze.

Meg didn’t.

Without hesitation she flowed forward, one step, two steps, jump-

The guard was whirling around, but Meg was faster. She jumped onto his back, kicking the hand on the gun hard. At the same time, she slapped her palm over his face, hitting him in the nose rather than covering his mouth. The guard reeled back, whether in shock or pain or the sudden weight on his back, but Meg stubbornly clung on, driving her knife into his shoulder. She barely muffled his yell in time. She had to end this quick, before he could alert anyone.

His hands came up to grab her arms, and Meg wasted no time slitting his throat. With a gurgle that was too loud in the silent corridor, he dropped to his knees. Meg tipped him forward, pinning him down until he stopped struggling.

She sat up, panting lightly.

“The guard’s down,” she whispered, and on the other end Tyler and Mariel cheered. Meg allowed herself a brief smile.

Then she glanced around, quickly dragging the dead body into the guest room he collapsed in front of. There was nothing to do about the blood on the carpet and wallpapers, though, so she moved on. If she hurried, it was unlikely to be discovered, and once she got out of here, it wouldn’t matter.

The last door opened into a recreation area, including a pool table and a giant fireplace. The carpet was plush, excellent for muffling her steps as she creeped past the darts board and to the balcony door. The sun was setting on the horizon, covering everything in golden light. The shadows were growing longer, too, perfect to escape in. In her ear, the comm crackled.

“I see you. The guard below is walking around the corner just about… now. Go ahead, but be quick about it,” Mariel said, her voice tense. Meg nodded and gave her a thumbs up.

The target was sipping from a whiskey glass, the liquid glinting golden where the light hit it. Instead of watching the gorgeous sunset, Madrazo’s attention was focussed on the iPad in his lap. It was easy, too easy to sneak up behind him. Meg’s heart fluttered in her throat as her fingers clenched around her knife- a gun, even with a silencer, was too loud, too likely to alert the guards to her presence. She stared down at the man who didn’t even look up as she stood right behind him, secure in the knowledge of all the guards protecting his mansion.

This was the man who nearly got Gavin killed. Who wanted her Gavino dead.

After all this work, all the preparation and worries, his death was incredibly anti-climatic. Meg watched the spray of blood trickle off slowly, her fingers feeling numb where she gripped the knife hard. She wrenched it out of Madrazo’s chest and stepped back. Taking off one of her gloves, she snapped a quick picture with her phone and sent it to Vagabond’s- _Ryan’s_ \- number.

_Done._

She packed the phone away without waiting for an answer, too aware of how exposed she was up here. If any guard saw her, or stumbled upon one of the corpses- With a grimace, she pulled on the blood-splattered glove and shot Mariel a second thumbs up. Then, she crouched low next to the balustrade and waited.

“The patrol’s coming back around now, you need to wait for half a minute,” Mariel informed her quietly.

“You won’t get a good camera angle if you jump the balcony,” Tyler chimed up. “The rotation is just barely out of sync. I’ll put them on loop now, but that won’t hold under scrutiny for too long. Good luck.”

“Understood,” Meg replied under her breath, waiting tensely for Mariel’s go-ahead.

And then she was off, jimmying down the drainpipe and ducking through the shadows, before finally vaulting over the high wall and full-out sprinting down the road. Shouts of alarm followed her as the guards inevitably noticed her in the wide-open field. At first, some tried to follow her, but Mariel quickly discouraged them. Under the cover fire, Tyler drove out to meet her halfway, taking a sharp u-turn and shooting off over the hill. Twenty seconds later, they were overtaken by a roaring motorcycle, Mariel tooting her horn at them in quick succession as she flew by.

Meg watched the ranch turn into a dust cloud behind them, but with every passing moment it became clearer and clearer that they weren’t followed. Catching her breath, she gave Tyler a two fingered salute, who laughed and turned them back onto the highway, weaving into the late hour traffic.

Meg pulled out her phone and ignored all her missed messages.

 _You’re free_ , she texted Gavin as she sunk back in the backseat, heart still thumping steadily in her chest. The adrenaline was slowly dying down, and the realization that she did it, _she made it_ , came rushing through.

 _haha_ , Gavin replied, followed instantly by, _very funny_

Meg rolled her eyes so hard it hurt, but nothing could stop the relieved laughter bubbling up in her throat. Tyler side-eyed her judgmentally through the rearview mirror, but Meg couldn’t care less.

 _Idiot_ , she wrote back, muffling giggles into her fist. _Mission accomplished, Gavino. It’s done._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end! Next Thursday this story will wrap up the loose plot threads and explore the relationships a bit more <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the threat to Gavin's life vanguished, a new problem presents itself. How do relationship.

As most big cities, Los Santos had its own little airport that was always bustling with activity. Planes came in and flew out every other hour, cargo more often than passengers. From what Meg could tell, the bigger names in the city had agreed to keep the airport neutral territory, considering how important it was to most smuggling operations. An uneasy truce which no party dared to break, not yet.

That wasn’t why she was there, though.

She checked her watch on the way to Gate 4A. The plane was supposed to land ten minutes ago, but between luggage retrieval and possibly a TSA pat-down, there was no way they were waiting for her. Meg ruthlessly crushed down the urge to hurry. No need to worry - Gavin was fine. He’d texted her before they boarded the plane, and they’d facetimed before that. She knew he was fine, it was just...

She needed to see for herself.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ryan who caught her eyes first. He wasn’t much taller than Gavin, maybe by a couple inches, and she hadn’t seen him without his mask often enough to really remember his face that well. But he had a certain way of moving, standing tall and gaze alert as he surveyed the crowd. Something that pinged her instincts as a threat and had her heart swell fondly. Even now, he was still looking out for Gavin.

“Hey!” she called out, standing on her toes and waving. “Gavin! Ryan! Over here!”

Gavin’s entire face brightened when he saw her, waving back excitedly. Meg broke out into a huge grin, relief flooding through her. He was fine. They made it out of this okay. It was finally over.

_He came back to me._

She ran to meet him halfway and jumped into his arms, laughing as she finally, finally let go of the last bits of tension. Gavin seemed just as excited to see her, whirling her around before cupping her head and pulling her in for a long, intense kiss. Meg melted into his arms, hands settling on his shoulders, simply revelling in his presence, alive and safe.

“You smell like travel sweat, boy,” she complained, wrinkling her nose, and Gavin laughed, pulling back to grin at her.

“And you smell like honey and roses, girl.” He paused, lifting a hand up to brush the fringe out of her face tenderly. “Thank you.”

Meg blinked, caught off-guard. “For what?”

“For everything,” he said, and there was a world of emotions behind those two words. “For being you. For sticking with me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, boy,” Meg said lightly, squeezing his shoulders. Her heart fluttered in her chest. “I was being utterly selfish the entire time.”

“Keep telling yourself that, girl.” Gavin grinned and rubbed his nose against hers. Meg closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, chuckling quietly.

Someone cleared his throat, and they looked up at Ryan. He’d grabbed the luggage Gavin abandoned to greet Meg and pulled it up next to them, along with his own.

“What, no kiss for me?” he joked, smile small and hesitant. Meg and Gavin glanced at each other, breaking out into identical grins that stretched over both ears. Meg winked and slipped out of his arms.

“Aww, do you feel left out, Ryan?” she cooed, and before he could reply, she leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Gavin sidled up on his other side and brushed a kiss to his other cheek. They had the pleasure of seeing the Vagabond blush, ducking his head shyly. Suddenly Gavin’s crush on Ryan made a lot more sense.

“Well, hopefully it won’t be necessary again,” he joked, and Meg giggled.

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

They stood there, smiling at each other, a weird tension between them. Gavin wrapped an arm around Meg’s waist, and she laid her head on his shoulder, eyeing Ryan thoughtfully. Gavin had been nervous and excited about how things would go from here, and it was clear to her now that Ryan, too, was expecting something to happen. She bit her lip, an idea she’d been vaguely toying with floating to the forefront of her mind, but she felt unsure how to best bring it up.

Finally, Ryan broke the awkward silence.

“I should get out of your hair,” he offered, taking a step back.

“Where are you gonna go?” Gavin asked, and Meg could hear the reluctance in his voice. Not ready to let Ryan go, scared they wouldn’t see him again. That this was it. “We could drop you off?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Ryan assured him, scratching his neck and not quite meeting their eyes. “I can take a cab. I should check back in with Mica, let her know everything’s okay, or she’s gonna have my head.” He paused, gaze flicking up. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“I mean,” Meg started slowly, shooting him a crooked grin. It was now or never. “I was hoping to take you boys out to dinner. Celebrate this little victory and all that jazz.”

“Us?” Ryan asked, head snapping up. “As in, the three of us?”

“That was the plan, yeah.” Meg shrugged faux-casually. “I understand if you have something else to do, but you’re welcome to join us. Right, Gavino?”

“Sounds good, girl,” Gavin enthused immediately, and she squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“Are you sure?” Ryan glanced between them. The tips of his ears turned a little red. “I mean. You haven’t had much time to spend together lately. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Meg felt herself relax, grin softening into a small smile. “You’re not.” She brushed a stray strand behind her ear with her free hand, face feeling a little hot. “It’s also kinda a thank you dinner? For not, you know.” She pointedly looked around the crowd around them, before nodding her chin at Gavin. “Losing this asshole in the gutters.”

“Well,” Ryan said slowly, shrugging and ducking his head. Cute. “I guess I could join you for dinner. Just this once.”

Dinner turned into drinks turned into Ryan walking them home at four in the morning, insisting on making sure they made it home safe. Then Gavin insisted he stay and sleep on the couch, stubborn as a mule in his drunken state, and Meg agreed that it was far too late to find a hotel now. Ryan tried to refuse at first, until he realized he had no chance but to give in, really.

When they sat down for breakfast the next morning, it almost felt natural. Meg had gotten used to Ryan sitting with them, drowning his pancakes in sugar and maple syrup. He’d set out her favourite cereal and cut up some fruits for her by the time she’d finished her shower. Gavin only had to hold out his hand silently for Ryan to stop eating and hand over the bacon.

Comfortable. As if they’d done this for years. As if it was meant to be.

None of them mentioned it.

 

* * *

 

The streets of Los Santos were sweltering in the middle of summer. The stale air caught between the high buildings, the concrete scorching hot in the noon sun. Meg tilted her head to the fresh breeze, closing her eyes as the wind played with her red hair. Sitting up high on the roof had sounded more tempting than being stuck in the narrow alleyways, where the humid air was thick enough to choke on.

An old advertisement board provided them with shade, and a cooler full of soda offered refreshment.

Down below on the busy streets people were rushing by, cars stopping and going in an odd rhythm. Like the heartbeat of the city, Meg mused. Her eyes tracked a scruffy man in a LSU varsity jacket, holding her breath as he sidestepped a young woman with a stroller. He was staring down at his phone, bulky headphones on his head as he nodded along to the music only he could hear. Not looking up, he bobbed and weaved through the crowd, and then-

 _Crash_. The guy stumbled over a misplaced trash can, phone going flying. The metal trash can remained stubbornly upright.

“Fuck!” Meg swore, holding out a five dollar bill to the man sitting next to her. “Oh, shut up.”

“Well, to be fair, I did call it,” Ryan said, trying to suppress his laughter as he stuffed the money in his back pocket. Meg shot him a cross look.

“Well, to be fair, it was my idea, Ryan,” she griped, frown turning into a pout as he laughed at her. Then she sighed, brushing her hair back behind her ear as she grudgingly admitted, “You did call it though.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Ryan promised, bumping their shoulders together. “Next one’s yours.”

Meg let her gaze wander over the crowd, picking her target.

“That woman, over there. In the ill-fitting business suit.”

Ryan hummed. “She does seem distracted enough.”

“Five says she trips over the cable outside the coffeeshop.” Meg shot Ryan a grin. “Get ready to gimme my money back, Haywood.”

The corners of Ryan’s mouth twitched up.

“Ten says she’s heading into the coffeeshop,” he stipulated. Meg’s eyes narrowed.

“Deal.”

They watched intently as the woman walked along the street, getting closer and closer to the coffeeshop and the hazardous cable, the heels of her shoes clacking on the asphalt. Suddenly, the woman looked up, glancing left and right before crossing the street and vanishing from their view.

“Aww, man,” Meg complained, leaning back against the billboard. Ryan laughed. “There goes my money.”

“Guess it’s a draw.” Ryan stretched out his legs and sighed. He gave her a sideways look. “How’s the suit doing?”

Meg picked up the binoculars and checked the windows of the office building across from them. Not in the printer room, nor the meeting room- There, in one of the offices. A heavyset man with thin hair swivelled his chair back and forth, watching a monitor. He tugged on his tie, loosening the knot a little. A fan whirred next to the monitor, combating the summer heat.

“Still at his desk,” she reported back, zooming in a little closer. “Looks like he’s watching something. Cat videos?”

She handed the binoculars over to Ryan, who took another look.

“Definitely cat videos,” he agreed, setting the binoculars aside. He glanced at his watch. “Business hours are almost over. I don’t think we’re stuck here much longer.”

Meg hummed agreeably, stretching her neck. “You gonna follow him?”

“Yeah,” Ryan sighed. He leaned over her, reaching for the cooler. He struggled with the lid, nearly elbowing her in the stomach.

“Hey! Watch it,” Meg complained laughingly. She grabbed the last soda can before he could and held it up above her head. Ryan glanced up at her and his eyes narrowed. Meg waggled her brows in her best Gavin impression. “You want this, big guy?” she taunted.

“...yes,” he admitted cautiously, pushing the cooler closed. Meg smirked and waved the diet coke mockingly.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound so sure,” she taunted, sticking her tongue out. With a playful growl, Ryan tackled her to the ground. Meg flailed, trying to keep the can out of his reach. He hovered over her, trying not to crush her with his weight as he stretched and grabbed her wrist. “Ahh! Ryan!”

Narrowing his eyes, Ryan pinned both her wrists above her head. Then he leveled her a smug look. “Gotcha.”

Meg raised her eyebrow suggestively. “Guess you do,” she purred, smirk spreading over her lips. “Whatever will you do with me now, I wonder.”

“Now,” Ryan intoned in a deep voice as he leaned in, his hot breath brushing over her cheek, “I’m going to take what I came for.”

Heat flushed through her, coiling tight low in her stomach, leaving her shivering. “Oh? Whatever might that be?”

Hot breath hit her ear, and the bristly stubble on his cheek rubbed against hers, as he whispered, “This.”

And then he was gone, sitting back up nonchalantly. Meg blinked dazedly. The pop and sizzle of the soda can being opened tore her out of her trance, and Meg groaned, dropping her head back against the roof. She couldn’t believe she fell for his ploy. She lifted her head and watched as Ryan took a huge swig of the ice-cold coke, his adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. The sun was sinking behind him, forcing her to squint against the blinding light.

He looked good. Beautiful.

“You really know how to treat a girl right,” Meg teased, snorting a laugh. She sat up, brushing the dust off her skirt. “What, not gonna ask me out on a date first?”

“What, this doesn’t count?” he countered, grinning cheekily. Meg stuck her tongue out.

“We’re on _stakeout_ ,” she pointed out dryly. “For which, might I remind you, I’m not even getting paid.”

Ryan hesitated. Meg straightened and turned to look at him, heart beating fast in her chest.

“Thanks for joining me,” he said, fidgeting with the tab on his coke. “You didn’t have to.”

Meg shrugged, looking away. Down below, a vibrantly orange car passed by. Her nose scrunched up. Who would drive such a monstrosity?

“Not like I had anything better to do today, really.”

“Still,” Ryan insisted, rubbing the back of his neck. “This was fun.”

“You might have died from boredom without me,” Meg teased, nudging his side with her elbow. “How could I do that to Gavin?”

Ryan blinked, and Meg wasn’t sure if his face was red from exposure to the sun or if he was blushing. “How do you mean?”

“Who else is gonna talk science with his stubborn ass?” she offered, softening the insult with a fond smile.

“Someone has to explain to him how wrong he is,” Ryan joked, and Meg’s mouth stretched into a grin.

“Exactly.” She stood up, stretching her arms over her head. Glancing down, she saw Ryan’s gaze riveted to where her shirt rode up. She swallowed, gathering her courage. “You wanna join Gavino and me for some Netflix and Chill tonight?”

Ryan blinked, before looking up at her with a small smile. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Sure,” he agreed. Relief and excitement flooded through her. “That sounds fun.”

 

* * *

 

After some bickering, they settled on an action flick that Netflix suggested and none of them had watched before. Meg got up to make some popcorn, setting the bowl in Ryan’s lap as she plopped down next to him, drawing up her legs and folding them under her. Gavin sat on Ryan’s other side, waving his half-eaten slice of pizza about as he ranted about the subpar lense work the movie used. Ryan watched him rather than the movie, a bemused smile on his face.

Meg leaned into his side and stole some popcorn from the bowl, head dropping onto his shoulder. Ryan gave her a startled look, but shifted until she could rest more comfortably against him. He lifted his arm, wedged uncomfortably between their bodies, and after hesitating for nearly a minute, he wrapped it around her back, hand laying flat on the cushion next to her. Meg ducked her head, smiling to herself.

Then Gavin leaned into his space, nearly toppling the popcorn bowl off Ryan’s lap as he gestured for their attention. Meg shot him a fond look and rescued the bowl, pulling it close to her chest.

“Is this a date?” Ryan blurted out suddenly. Meg rolled her head to look at him. “I mean, if it is, I would like to know.”

Gavin stared at him, before turning to exchange a look with Meg.

“Yes?” he ventured carefully. “At least I thought so?”

“We did ask you if you wanted to come _Netflix and Chill_ ,” Meg pointed out, heart fluttering in her throat.

“Yes?” Ryan sounded confused.

“Netflix _and Chill_ ,” Gavin repeated, emphasizing the last part. Ryan’s brow furrowed.

“Hanging out on your couch is always very chill,” he ventured carefully, and Meg could only stare.

“You don’t know what _Netflix and Chill_ means,” she realized with dawning horror. “Oh. My. God.”

“ _How_ ,” Gavin asked, voice strangled. “How do you not-”

“I know what _chill_ means,” Ryan protested, throwing up his hands and dislodging Meg from his side. “It’s slang for relaxing!”

“No!” Meg sputtered, brain grounding to a halt. Ryan shot her a skeptical look. “I mean yes! But not in this context!”

“What does it mean, then?” Ryan asked crossly. Meg exchanged a wild look with Gavin.

“Um,” he stalled, shaking his head at her with wide eyes. Meg sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“It’s, like…” she trailed off and gestured towards the TV. Ryan arched a brow. “It’s putting on a movie for background noise and making out on the couch.”

“Or, uh… more,” Gavin added awkwardly. “Usually definitely more.”

Ryan stared. “You invited me over for… sex.”

“Yes?” Gavin glanced over to Meg helplessly. “If… If that’s something you’re interested in?”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Wait. So it’s not a date?”

“It could be?” Meg replied, confused. “I mean, obviously we failed communicating here, because we thought you knew what you were agreeing to-”

“But if you don’t want to, just say so, no hard feelings,” Gavin added hastily, talking over her.

Ryan held up his hand, and Meg’s mouth snapped shut. He stood up, moving away from the couch and started pacing. Explosions and screams echoed through the room, and Gavin quietly reached out for the remote and muted the TV. The silence rung in her ears. Meg bit her lip.

“I need-” Ryan started, then stopped with a frustrated sound. “You said-” Again, he stopped, his jaw working furiously. Finally he turned to face them. “You wanted a threesome. Before you knew who I was.”

“We were going to ask you, yes,” Meg confirmed cautiously, glancing at Gavin who met her eyes worriedly. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “We’ve talked about it before, and we’re both attracted to you, and...”

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Gavin entangled their fingers and scooted closer to her, into the empty space Ryan left behind.

“So you want to, what?” Ryan dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling it out of his neat ponytail. “Spice up your sex life?”

“I mean, that’s one way to put it…?” Meg said slowly. Ryan didn’t look particularly pleased, and her heart sank.

“If that’s all you want, that’s fine,” Gavin piped up next to her, a determined look on his face. “We can work with that. One night of fun and then we’ll go right back to being friends. But that’s not exactly what we were hoping for.”

Something flashed across Ryan’s face, there and then hidden behind a carefully blank expression. Meg sat up straighter.

“What were you hoping for?” Ryan asked, stilling abruptly in his pacing.

 _Hope_ , Meg thought and gave him a tentative smile.

“We like you. _Like_ like you.” Her heartbeat drummed through her ears, stuttered in her chest. “So, like, the ideal scenario would be you liking us back. Or are at least willing to try?”

Ryan licked his lips nervously. “Try what, exactly?” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth. “I get what you’re trying to say… I think. I just- I need you to be clear. I need you to say it.” He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “You two are happy together. I don’t want to assume-”

Oh. _Oh._

“We want you,” Gavin blurted out.

“To date you,” Meg added hurriedly. “If you would have us?”

“How would that work?” Ryan asked quietly, but there was a longing in his eyes. Meg held out her free hand and pulled him closer when he took it.

“Just like any other relationship, innit?” Gavin reached out and settled his hand on theirs. “Except there’s three of us instead of just two.”

“We go on dates together, the three of us or just two,” Meg explained, letting go of Gavin’s hand and tugging Ryan down to sit between them. “And… we talk. Figure this out as we go.”

“We can take it slow,” Gavin promised, laying his arm over Ryan’s shoulders. Meg brushed her thumb over Ryan’s knuckles, under Gavin’s hand. “And there’s… There’s a ton of advice on the internet how to make stuff like this work. I looked.”

“Yeah?” Ryan questioned, sounding bemused. Meg smiled as Gavin ducked his head, blushing.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly. Meg lifted her free hand behind Ryan’s back and squeezed Gavin’s shoulder. He shot her a quick, grateful smile.

“Do you-” Meg began, heart beating a staccato in her chest. She cleared her throat. “Does that sound like something you’d… want to try?”

“I think…” Ryan started slowly, glancing up at her from under lowered lashes. “I think I was promised kisses. Or, uh… a ‘make-out session’, if you will.”

Gavin huffed a relieved laugh, hand dropping down to Ryan’s waist. Meg chuckled weakly, leaning into Ryan’s side.

“And…” Ryan continued, glancing between them. “We, uh, can talk more about the what and how later? Maybe?”

“Absolutely,” Meg agreed immediately.

“Do we have to?” Gavin inquired plaintively at the same time. Meg punched his shoulder.

“Yes,” she insisted. Gavin grimaced. Meg rolled her eyes, laughter bubbling up in her chest. “Oh, don’t be a baby. It’ll be fine. Better even.” She cut Ryan a quick look. “Don’t want another misunderstanding, right?”

“Right,” Ryan agreed readily. Behind him, Gavin pouted at her. She stuck out her tongue, and Ryan raised a brow, chuckling. “I’d like to know what to expect, at least.”

“Alright, alright,” Gavin gave in with a sigh. “Fine. Sure.”

Ryan laughed and turned to him, his hand slipping out of their combined grasp to cup Gavin’s face. His thumb traced over his cheekbone, and then he leaned in. Meg watched, hooking her chin over Ryan’s shoulder as he kissed her boyfriend for the first time.

Despite her best intentions, she expected to feel jealous. Instead, a low heat curled in her stomach, and she shifted in place, pressing her thighs together. Watching two men she was attracted to make out right in front of her was incredibly hot. Better yet that she could touch - she felt the tension leach from his muscles as he melted into the kiss. Brushed her fingers through the short hair of Gavin’s neck, felt him shiver under her palm.

They broke apart, panting heavily with barely an inch between them. Gavin’s face was flushed, his cheeks red and eyes blown wide.

She couldn’t see Ryan’s expression from this angle, but she felt his chest expand as he breathed heavily. He leaned forward, lips gently brushing over Gavin’s. Then he turned, glancing back at her. Meg gave him a soft smile.

“Hey there,” he murmured, voice a little hoarse.

“Hey.” She grinned, tapping his nose with her finger. “Is it my turn now?”

Ryan chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Meg muffled a surprised yelp, grabbing onto Ryan’s shoulders for balance as she suddenly found herself in his lap. But before she could complain - not that she was inclined to - his hand curled around her neck and drew her in for a kiss. She met him eagerly, one hand gliding up to play with his low ponytail, the other sliding smoothly over his back, coming to rest on the opposite shoulder.

“Hell,” Gavin mumbled, and Meg closed her eyes.

Hands settled on her hips, lips brushing over hers experimentally. Meg pressed closer, her fingers digging into Ryan’s shoulder. She spread her legs, sinking lower on Ryan’s lap, her breasts rubbing against his chest. Fingers grazed across her cheek, pulling her hair back out of her face. She tilted her head, teeth skimming over her bottom lip and she opened easily.

Hot breath on her neck startled her, and she moaned into the kiss, eyes blinking open heavily. She broke the kiss, turning her head towards Gavin, who leaned into her and caught her lips with his own. Meanwhile, Ryan didn’t skip a beat, mouthin along her jaw and pressing light kisses down her neck.

The couch squeaked as they resettled themselves, trading kissing partners every so often. They didn’t get around to talking that night. Or the next morning.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry I’m late, guys,” Gavin called out, furiously typing on his phone. With a drawn-out bloop the message sent. He locked the touchscreen and pushed it into his pocket, before looking up to meet their incredulous looks. “What?”

“You’re lucky the Vagabond hasn’t shown up yet, idiot,” Michael laughed, shaking his head.

The warehouse was mostly empty, several crates stacked up to one side. Both entrances were cleared, leaving them with a good view of both. A catwalk connected the walls just above their heads, before vanishing in the darkness of the roof. Ideal for a sniper, Gavin thought idly.

“Where’s Jack? And Jeremy?” Gavin asked curiously, craning his neck as he looked for them.

“Jack’s waiting with the car. Jeremy’s around,” Geoff answered shortly, before pointing a finger at him. “More importantly, where have you been? We were worried as dicks! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

“I, uh…” Gavin started nervously, backing up a step. His face felt hot. “I got… stuck in traffic?”

Not his best lie, to be fair. None of them looked like they believed him, either. But what was he gonna do, tell them his girlfriend and his new boyfriend were bloody teases who wouldn’t stop sexting in the middle of the day?

His phone dinged.

“Don’t you dare,” Geoff threatened, waving a finger in his face.

“It might be important,” Gavin argued weakly, already pulling out the phone. The last message was from Meg, the preview reading _Sometimes he li-_

“Gavin,” Geoff growled warningly.

“Geoff, just a second, Geoff,” Gavin mumbled as he unlocked the screen.

_Sometimes he likes it rough ;)_

As he stared down at the screen, a message from Ryan arrived.

_I’ll keep that in mind ;)_

Gavin felt his cheeks grow hot and started typing furiously.

_do you mind I’m bus_

“Gav,” Michael spoke up, alarmed. Gavin glanced up. With another bloop, the message sent early.

Michael’s eyes widened, and Geoff grew rapidly pale, but just as Gavin opened his mouth to ask, there was a click behind his head. The cold barrel of a gun pressed into his temple, and an arm wrapped over his chest, ready to choke him. Gavin tensed, blinking slowly.

“The fuck-” Michael started, but Geoff grabbed his shoulder, and Michael’s jaw snapped shut. He snarled, baring his teeth at the person holding Gavin, looking ready to attack. And Geoff… Geoff’s hand was trembling on Michael’s shoulder.

“Ramsey,” a familiar voice rasped behind him. Gavin exhaled softly, going limp in his grasp.

“Put the gun down, Vagabond,” Geoff replied coldly, eyes narrowing. He was the only one not pointing a gun at them. It would be considered a power play, but Gavin knew it was just a cover-up. Geoff’s aim was simply too bad to risk shooting Gavin by accident.

Next to him, Michael was practically vibrating with rage, teeth gnashing. Only his arm was steady as he aimed his forty-five at them.

“What did you expect?” Ryan’s voice was muffled by the mask, and it sounded flat. Except, Gavin had the chance to get to know him, and he could hear the smile in his voice. Ryan was having fun. Gavin rolled his eyes. “I’ve come alone as requested, and yet I’m outnumbered. Because you brought more people than we agreed on.”

The glint of a rifle on the upper walkway. Gavin tracked Jeremy’s movements curiously as he sneaked along the platform.

“Let’s not do anything hasty,” Geoff said, switching tracks. He held his hands up, trying to deescalate the situation. Stiff and wide-eyed, and Gavin knew he was panicking. Awww. It was nice to know Geoff cared.

“Then talk,” Ryan growled sharply, dragging Gavin a step back. Geoff’s mouth drew into a thin line and nodded.

“You’ve been hired to take out one of my people, or so I’ve heard through the grapevine. I asked you here to make a counter-offer,” Geoff continued quickly, not quite daring to look at Gavin. “There’s no need for bad blood between us, Vagabond. We’ve got quite a few job opportunities for you, if you take us up on this.”

Ryan’s arm around him started to relax, and… really, Gavin would have to chew out their intel team later. Maybe get some new informants. It’d already been two months since he settled things with Ryan.

(Two months since New York, since glamour and glitz and going on not-dates. Two months of living together in Meg and his’ little apartment. Two months of maybe, before finally, finally getting together last week. After a Talk, which Gavin really would’ve rather avoided, but both his partners insisted was necessary. And since it ended happily for all involved… Gavin guessed it could’ve gone worse.)

He felt Ryan shift behind him, imagined him cocking his head the way he did when Gavin and Meg confronted him.

“I could just kill him now and be done with it,” he stated blandly, the barrel of the gun caressing down Gavin’s cheek. Gavin kept his eyes straight on Geoff’s, willing down his boner because, nope. Not now. Not work appropriate.

“It’d be so easy, too. After all-” Ryan did his dramatic pause thing, and the sudden urge to roll his eyes again hit Gavin. Ryan was such a dork, and really into his theatrics. Majored in theatre, too, and it was all too easy to believe that right now. He wondered if they could interest Ryan in some roleplay in the bedroom. Later. “-I have him right here, in my sights.”

Geoff’s gaze flickered to catch Gavin’s eyes, before focussing back on the Vagabond.

“Be that as it may,” Geoff said, trying to sound calm and collected. But Gavin heard the note of worry, saw the muscle twitching in his jaw. “I still think it’d be rather more advantageous for you to join us. Contract-basis, temporary, whatever you want- We pay good money. Steady money. And we’re loyal.”

“Even if I were interested in any of that-” Ryan scoffed, making his opinion of Geoff’s offer clear. “Why would I go back on a contract I already signed?”

“We can pay you out, double the offer-” Geoff started babbling, shifting nervously on his feet.

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Ryan reminded them patiently.

Gavin leaned his weight against Ryan’s chest and watched, trying to keep the grin off his face. Ryan’s arm dropped to loop around his waist, and Gavin raised his own hands to settle on top of Ryan’s. Nobody paid it any mind, all eyes on the Vagabond’s mask and gun.

“If you hurt him,” Geoff was saying, voice sounding hard but frayed around the edges. Lines of stress showed on his face. “I will hunt you down. We will hunt you down, with the entire might of our allies and every favour we have accrued. You will have nowhere safe to turn to, you hear me?”

“First you’re trying to bribe me,” Ryan stated, clearly bemused. “And now you threaten me? Ramsey, I hate to say this, but your negotiation skills are seriously lacking. I’m the one with all the leverage here, and frankly, I have yet to hear any kind of incentive.”

“You could have told me, Geoffrey,” Gavin piped up and arched a brow when they turned to look at him. “You know. As the crew’s negotiator and all. Kinda miffed that you didn’t, honestly.”

“Not now, Gav.” Geoff pressed his lips into a thin line, voice wavering.

“It’s not like your opening gambit was much better,” Ryan interjected, and Gavin turned his head to glare at him.

“Oy! I object to that.” He sniffed theatrically. “And it worked, didn’t it? So who’s a sucker now.”

“Going by last night, or in general?” Ryan inquired mildly, and Gavin sputtered.

“You’re a right wanker, you know that?” he grumbled, crossing his arms with a huff. Ryan, the mingey prick, had the audacity to laugh into his ear. “You’re lucky I like you, you smegpot.”

“That’s not even a word,” Ryan protested, giggling helplessly.

“Hmph.” Gavin elbowed him, glancing at their audience.

“Wait-” Michael started, eyes narrowing. Gavin blinked innocently, smiling sunnily back at him. “You two know each other?”

“Oh, yeah.” Gavin shrugged. “Since he tried to kill me about nine or ten weeks ago.”

Geoff sputtered. “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I did!” Gavin protested, turning his pout on Geoff. “I told Michael and Jeremy someone was following me!”

“Wait. The fucking Vagabond turned out to be your stalker?!” Michael shouted, before adding in an aside to Geoff, “We set up an ambush, but nobody showed up.”

“How did you survive?” Geoff marvelled, staring at him wide-eyed.

“With my charm, duh.” They shot him skeptical looks, and Ryan chuckled, chin resting on Gavin’s shoulder. “What? I made a deal!”

“And now you’re, what, fucking?” Michael asked bluntly, voice full of disbelief. Gavin frowned.

“That’s none of your bloody business now, innit?”

“But you’re no longer trying to kill Gavvers?” Geoff asked, turning to address Ryan.

“Nah.” Ryan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “The contractor is dead so the contract is void.”

“So why did you come here today?” Geoff’s brow furrowed and he sounded frustrated. Gavin gave him an arch look.

“Someone mentioned you were looking to hire me,” Ryan replied evenly, his arms tightening around Gavin’s waist. “I’m interested.”

Geoff’s mouth gaped open. He sputtered, opening and closing it, but no words came out. Michael shot Gavin an incredulous look. Gavin grinned back at him, feeling smug.

“Does that mean I can come down now?” Jeremy’s small voice echoed through the warehouse. “Because, you know. I kinda hate heights.”

 

* * *

 

“Wait,” Michael said later, once they were back in the penthouse. “I thought you had an imaginary girlfriend.”

“She’s not imaginary, you prick,” Gavin huffed, plopping down on the couch and leaning into Ryan’s side. Ryan’s arm dropped over his shoulders and pulled him closer.

“So... you're cheating on your imaginary girlfriend with the Vagabond?" Jeremy suggested cheekily, tossing Michael a can of beer before holding one up and shooting Ryan a questioning look. Ryan shook his head, and Jeremy shrugged, closing the mini-fridge.

“You know what,” Gavin said, throwing up his hands. He was getting annoyed. “Screw you guys.”

“No, you’re screwing _him_ ,” Jeremy pointed out helpfully. Ryan simply stared back.

“So,” he started, tilting his head in Gavin’s direction. Gavin glanced up at him, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “They’ve never met Meg, huh?”

“Nah,” Gavin replied casually, shrugging his free shoulder. “We kinda never introduced each other to our friends? With, you know, all the secrets and stuff.”

Ryan hummed thoughtfully.

“Wait,” Jeremy was saying, slowly lowering his beer can. He traded looks with Michael, who had a look of dawning horror on his face. “Wait. She’s not… imaginary?”

“No, you mong!” Gavin burst out, shooting him a glare. “I’ve been saying that for years!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Michael exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. “Next you’re telling me she actually is a fucking model!”

“She is!” Gavin insisted. Ryan’s chest was vibrating under his shoulder, and he gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Stop laughing, you prick.”

“I’m just imagining how they’ll react when they find out she’s a world-renowned assassin, too,” he said mildly, and silence descended on them like a heavy blanket. “Or that she beat me handily in hand-to-hand combat.”

“SHE WHAT.”

As Jack walked over to see what the commotion was about, Michael and Jeremy shouting loudly and gesturing wildly all the while, Gavin turned suspiciously towards Ryan.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Ryan grinned smugly. Gavin snorted and shook his head, burrowing closer into his side.

“Of course you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out again to those without whom this story wouldn't be finished, my betas and cheerleaders kaysno, lunarlover12, plaindealingvillainess and skydiver-tomyo.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Leave comments and kudos before you go <3 Feedback very welcome!
> 
> This story was first posted on March 8th. If you're interested in early access and other insights into my works, check out [my tumblr](http://miss-ingno.tumblr.com/patreon/) for more info!


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